


Buy Me Dinner First

by AidansQueen



Series: Infinite Diversity [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bukkake, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Heavy Angst, Light Dom/sub, New Vulcan, Rough Sex, Some Humor, Stubborn Vulcans, Vulcan sarcasm, spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 04:09:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 36,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AidansQueen/pseuds/AidansQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had promised to buy her dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything or make any money from any of it, all of it belongs to those who created Star Trek.
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: Hello everyone, This is the sequel to the first installment, 'The Epic Tale Of Pon'Age' and probably should be read first or you probably won't understand what's going on in this story. Special thanks to Kerry Lamb for her awesome beta abilities!

**Earth**

**San Francisco**

 

Nyota Uhura was many things. She was diligent and loyal, capable and understanding, she was brave and strong, but she was _not_ a fashion designer.  She holds up the dark royal blue gown to her body and frowns, twisting and turning in the full length mirror.

“ _No_ ,” Gaila says without preamble and snatches the dress out of her hands before she can protest. “ _Yes_ ,” She adds as she replaces it with a shimmery gold dress, all flowing curves, delicate and feminine. Nyota blinks at the gown in her hands and sighs, glancing back at her friend, “I’m not going to a _ball_ Gaila…I’m just going to the Starfleet gala.”

“Regardless,” Gaila says as she tilts her chin up, “You’re going to look amazing because you want to find some hot guy to take you out for drinks after…maybe even get laid.”

“I’m not looking for anyone,” Nyota scowls at her, lets out a sigh of frustration.

“It’s been _six months_ Nyota,” Gaila says pointedly, “ _six months_ and he hasn’t called you. _Six months_ you spent being loyal…waiting…because he asked you too, because you’re a goody two shoes and can’t accept that regardless of what species he is, he’s still a _man_ and he’s blowing you off.”

“He’s not blowing me off,” Nyota says as her scowl deepened, “He’s probably just really busy.”

“ _Nyota_ ,” Gaila sighs, watching her friend with pity in her eyes, “Maybe this is for the best…I mean do you _really_ want to be an ambassador’s wife? I mean honestly….think about it…you marry him and you’ll have to give up your commission and go live with him… he dumps you off on his home planet and then he’s gone…running around the universe while you’re stuck at home alone. You’ll never get to see him very often….he can’t give you children…at least not without some help…and worst of all…the _worst_ part…is that _Spock_ will be calling you _dahrik ko-mekh_ …. Because he’s logical like that and will tell you that because you would be his stepmother, then it would only be logical to address you as such.”

“ _Gaila_ ,” Nyota grimaces and rubs her face tiredly.

“No,” Gaila says firmly, “I’m getting your mind off that man…you’re going to wear the sexy gold dress and you’re going to let me do your hair and then…. _and then_ ….we’re going to the gala and you’re going to find yourself a hot guy and forget all about _him_.”

 

**San Francisco**

**Starfleet Headquarters**

 

The gala was noisy, filled with over-dressed diplomats and their bejeweled wives from all over the galaxy. Nyota made her way through the crowd, scanning it not with her eyes but her ears for the voice she was looking for.

“I just want a glass of _punch_ \--…” says an overly irritated voice off to her left.

“ _A glass of punch please,”_ Nyota supplies flawlessly in Deltan for McCoy who looks relieved to see her.

When the Deltan server hands him his drink she curls her arm into McCoy’s and smiles up at him, “shall we?”

“Yes,” McCoy nods with a heavy sigh, “let’s get this over with.”

Mingling with the crowd was easy; her arm looped around McCoy’s as she smiles and greets the guests. He kept studiously silent unless spoken to, allowing Nyota to do all the talking.  Gaila finds them later on; her bright red curls pinned up neatly to match the lovely silver dress she wore. She loops her arm through Nyota’s and suddenly they are the dynamic trio, that is until Gaila stiffens beside her and lets out an unladylike squeal before dragging Nyota and McCoy off to the right before Nyota could question it.

“What?” Nyota hisses with a scowl curving her lips.

“It’s _him_ ,” Gaila hisses back and adds as Nyota turns to look, “No don’t _look_!”

“Are you sure?” Nyota frowns at Gaila.

“Yes,” Gaila says as she watches the Vulcan in question from the corner of her eyes, “It’s him alright…and he’s looking right at you.”

“What do I do?” Nyota says, trying to swallow her sudden nervousness.

“Ok…play it cool…just relax…and pretend you don’t see him…he’s probably going to do the same anywa--…I spoke to soon,” Gaila trails off as she watches that same Vulcan make his way through the crowd towards them. He does it gracefully she might add as an afterthought, his perfect Vulcan stoicism never flustered in the slightest, all charm and professionalism as he speaks to every representative that approaches him, every guest that greets him.

“Ok…that Andorian diplomat’s holding him up…let’s make a run for it while we still can,” Gaila says as she starts to drag the two behind her towards the side wall of the building they were in. McCoy makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat, suddenly no longer silent, “Ok…look…I’m not gonna be dragged into some kind of--…” he says but cuts off at Gaila’s sharp look.

“ _You_ …go dance with her…keep her away from the Vulcan,” Gaila says and lightly shoves Nyota into his arms.

Before she could protest Nyota was being swung out onto the dance floor, quickly falling into step with the rhythm of the music, “Have you ever danced before?” Nyota asks McCoy quietly, watching him stare at his feet and count.

“I only had a few lessons when I was younger,” he mumbles back, busy concentrating on his feet.

“Stop staring at your--.. _ow_!” Nyota winces as his foot collides with hers but keeps going, shaking his stiffened arms out so that he would loosen up and hold a proper dancing form with her, “Keep your arms outstretched…you’re standing too close to me that’s why you’re stepping on my feet….look at me and not at your feet…let me lead.”

McCoy makes another irritated sound of frustration and nods, letting Nyota lead him across the dance floor. After a while it starts to become enjoyable, the two of them laughing as he struggles to learn the steps and makes jokes about how stiff the other couples were, how they seemed to be so perfect in their dance form that they could have been dancing at a competition.

“I _know_ ,” Nyota giggles quietly, “they act like they’re going to get a prize or something.”

“Exactly,” McCoy chuckles, “This kind of dancing isn’t my style…back home I could show you some _real_ fun.”

               When they finally get tired of dancing the two of them leave the floor, arm intertwined as McCoy retrieves her a glass of champagne and a glass of punch for himself. Gaila appears out of seemingly nowhere, watching the crowd with a devious look on her face. “Ok you two hurry it up…there’s only one place a--…Oh hello Ambassador,” she finishes quickly, suddenly bright and smiling as if she hadn’t been plotting against the Vulcan before her just moments before. Nyota suddenly feels as if she is in the middle of a chess match and she was just one of the many pawns on the board. She gets the impression that Gaila and the ambassador have been at this all night, thinks that perhaps Gaila’s been working at keeping him away from her for hours now.

“Good evening,” he says politely, shifting his gaze between the three of them, “I was wondering if I might employ Ms. Uhura’s linguistic skills for a moment.”

He doesn’t really need a linguist.

Nyota is certain the man probably knows every language imaginable, more so than she and Gaila is clearly not fooled either but smiles politely nonetheless. “Of course Ambassador,” Nyota says with a professional smile as she untangles her arm from McCoy’s and steps forward. She feels Gaila watching her as she departs with the Ambassador, a respectful distance between them as they walk together into the crowd.

“Well played…. _well played_ …” Gaila murmurs with a faint nod as she regards the Ambassador with a thoughtful look.

There is nothing out of the ordinary as she speaks with different representatives, politely provides translations when needed and continues to keep a respectful distance from Sarek, watches how he does the same and feels a sense of ease come over her. It is nearly an hour later when he finally releases her, and Nyota gets the feeling he does this not because he actually needed the help but because he wanted her at his side and away from her friends. They make no conversation out of the ordinary; speak of nothing personal in the crowd. When Nyota finally departs from his company she is exhausted and her feet are aching from the gold heeled shoes she wears. In the privacy of one of the empty corridor’s connected to the building  the gala was being held in she digs through her purse for her communicator, unable to find her friends and guessed that they probably went home already.

“Greetings,” she hears his voice and closes her eyes, straightening up and opening them once more, relaxing her muscles as she turns to face the owner of that voice.

“Ambassador,” she says with a polite nod as she finally retrieves her communicator and checks for messages, “Forgive me I’ve seem to have lost my companions for this evening.”

“I see,” he says, watching her check her messages before adding, “I had thought to speak to you sooner but was unable to locate you after you departed from my company.”

“Yes,” Nyota says with a faint nod, “I was supposed to go out with my friends afterwards for drinks…I’m not entirely sure where they went though.”

He is silent for what seems like hours, the wheels clearly turning in his head as he regards her quietly, watches her fiddle with her communicator before dropping it back into her purse, “I do believe I owe you dinner Ms. Uhura.”

She stills, contemplating his words that seem to have sent a combination of shock and anxiety down her spine. Blinking at him she nods faintly, “As I recall you wished to do so.”

“I do,” he says with nod, his expression giving nothing away.

Nyota nods, “We should arrange for it then.”

“I thought perhaps I could take you to dinner now...that is of course if your friends would be amenable to it?”

“Oh,” Nyota blinks at him, “Um…I don’t think they’ll mind.”

“Excellent,” he responds and motions to the door behind him, “My private flitter is just outside.”

He is blinking down at her, an expectant look on his face and she just stares at him, thinking that he just totally set her up. Vulcan logic she thinks, although claimed to be totally emotionless is _very_ confident. She smiles and walks past him, keeping her hands and her skin far away from his. It has been six months; she thought that perhaps he’d changed his mind. She had thought many things and nothing had prepared her for him to just suddenly pop up at the gala and ask her to dinner.

In the flitter they are silent, Nyota struggling to find something to fill the awkward silence between them, “The flowers were lovely.”

“I am gratified that you enjoyed them,” he says with a nod, his eyes turning towards the privacy window before them. With a slight motion of his wrist as he presses a button on the panel beside him, the window slides upward, leaving them both in the privacy of the backseat.  “You must forgive me,” he says quietly, “I have been busy, my job carries me across the galaxy and I hadn’t the time to contact you. Furthermore the fact that you are travelling on a starship makes that twice as hard…but I hoped perhaps the flowers would assure you of my regard for you…that I had not rescinded my decision.”

_Crap._

Watching him suddenly look so hesitant, so unsure was making her feel guilty. There she was dancing around the ballroom with McCoy, laughing and smiling and completely ignoring him and he was doing everything in his power to reach her. He hadn’t just wanted to talk to her, he’d wanted to take her to dinner because he’d _finally_ had the time to do so and she wasn’t making it easy. Suddenly unbidden Gaila’s words from earlier whispered softly in her mind.

_…and worst of all…the worst part…is that Spock will be calling you dahrik ko-mekh…. Because he’s logical like that and will tell you that because you would be his stepmother, then it would only be logical to address you as such…_

“Nyota?” she hears his voice interrupt her thoughts and she turns her head to regard him, blinks at him a couple of times and blushes when she realizes that she hadn’t answered him, that he’d sat there in awkward silence sweating it out while she listened to the inner monologue of her mind who sounded suspiciously like Gaila.

“I’m sorry,” Nyota says with flushed cheeks, “I’ve got a lot on my mind right now…I totally understand though; I imagine being an ambassador is a lot of work.”

“It is,” he says with a nod, thankfully looking satisfied by her answer, “you did not seem keen on my presence tonight however…I had originally planned to obtain your whereabouts from my staff and then take you to dinner this weekend but seeing that you appeared to be displeased with me I opted to take you tonight instead. I wanted to ensure you of my admiration for you.”

“Oh,” Nyota says and winces at her words, realizes that she just keep’s saying that over and over again, amazed that though she knows many languages she can’t seem to muster the ability to say anything else. “I’m sorry…no…I’m not angry with you or anything. My friend Gaila, she’s just looking out for me…she was trying to get me to go have a little fun and relax.”

“I noticed,” Sarek responds and suddenly he seems a little put out by her response, tries not to gasp when she feels his fingers sliding over the bare skin of her left arm. He hooks a finger under the strap of her gold dress, frowns at the material as he rolls it between his fingers, “You dress appears to be incomplete.”

“It’s a one strapped dress,” she answers, “It’s supposed to look like this,” she says and adds after the bewildered look on his face, “It’s supposed to only have one strap, they call them one shoulder dresses.”

He frowns, taking in the way the satin gold dress is fitted to her curves, the way it flows in waves down to her feet. “I do not care for how revealing it is,” he tells her flatly, disapproval in his eyes, “I would not care to have unattached men see what belongs to me.”

_Wait…what?_

“I see,” Nyota swallows thickly, doesn’t meet his gaze because she can already feel the sudden burning in his eyes across her skin as he watches her.

“It is something I would not have you wear in public,” he adds as an afterthought and she wonders if he’d want her to wear it for him when they were alone.

“Gaila helped me pick it out,” she says quietly without looking at him, tries to ignore the warm hand on her shoulder where he’s left it, can feel through the touch of his skin that he’s trying to read her thoughts on the matter.

“I recall your friend,” he responds, “she appeared to be trying to waylay me all night.”

“Gaila is just…Gaila,” she says with a half-smile and reaches up to rest her hand atop his on her shoulder. She pushes warmth towards him, tries to reassure him of her loyalty. She wants to be here with him even if part of her was terrified and very nervous. When she sees him relax a little she moves her hand and rests it in her lap, watches as he does the same. There was a big part of her that was curious about him, was fascinated by his intellect. Another part of her, a smaller part whispered that she wasn’t good enough, that she was too young for him, too inexperienced.  He needed a woman of elegance and class; he needed someone who was as beautiful and as wise as he was.

When they arrive at the restaurant she doesn’t know where they are, knows only that they were in the upper part of San Francisco and had a beautiful view of the harbor. When the doors to the flitter open he’s suddenly all business again, Vulcan stoicism as she trails along behind him without saying a word. When they enter the restaurant they are given a private booth before a wide glass window, Nyota realizing that the place was empty and wondered if the entire restaurant had been cleared for them.

As if reading her thoughts Sarek glances back at her, regarding her with very little expression on his face, “As Ambassador my safety is paramount,” he tells her quietly, “If I made reservations here it would be eminent that they would remove any possible threat to me.”

_He made reservations._

_Reservations…he was so freaking cocky._

“Oh,” Nyota nods and rolls her eyes at the use of the same word once more, hoping the ambassador doesn’t think she’s completely illiterate as they sit across from each other at a lovely polished wooden table. Nyota glances towards the window, admires the twinkling lights of the harbor in the distance set against the night sky full of stars.

This is was so _romantic_ …

A menu is set before her and she examines it, thanks the waiter as he fills her glass with wine.  When they order and the menus are taken away they are left alone, Sarek regarding her thoughtfully in silence. Finally he speaks up, watches the expression on her face as he talks.

“So I do believe this is where the human customs dictate we converse is it not? As I recall you would desire to know me?”

_Know him…know him…she knows him alright…_

_Bad Nyota!_

“Yes,” she says as she clears her throat, takes a sip of her wine before continuing, “I mean…I…you can…” she frowns, irritated that she can’t seem to speak properly, “How about you chose a topic.”

He quirks his eyebrow in a way that reminds her of Spock and then begins, “Do you enjoy your work?”

“I do,” Nyota nods, “I’ve wanted to travel the stars since I was three…I remember when I was younger…when I was about eight years old I told my Mama that I wanted to explore the universe…I wanted to know what else was out there.”

He nods, as if storing away this information away before responding, “I enjoy my work as well,” he says hesitantly, “I find it gratifying to bring peace to civilizations that are so destructive.”

_Yeah that’s right…Vulcans like peace…_

Nyota nods in response as she finally meets his inquisitive gaze, watching her intently as she speaks, “I’ve heard about some of your more difficult peace treaties,” she comments idly, afraid to delve any deeper because sometimes what she has to say isn’t very nice. Nyota is a brutally honest person though; she’s never been one to sugar coat things.

“What are your thoughts on this?” Sarek inquires as he watches the wheels turn in her head and wonders what she thinks of his work.

“You did well,” Nyota nods, “though with that Andorian transaction…I just didn’t care for their needless attempts at gratitude…I don’t trust them, I can’t help it. I’ve seen too many of them deceive and destroy over the years. It’s one thing to make peace with them but it’s an entirely different story to trust them.”

He is silent for far too long and she worries that she has insulted him.  Finally when he speaks his voice inflects nothing that he feels and she is suddenly frustrated by her inability to read him. Sarek was better at hiding his emotions then Spock. With Spock it didn’t take her long to learn his cues, the crinkle of his eyebrows when he is thoughtful, the sharp look in his eyes or the way his mouth thinned when he was annoyed with something. Sarek was a blank slate, he gave nothing away and Nyota found this unnerving, “The Andorians have always been deceptive,” he comments idly as the waiter brings them their food, “I would have been surprised had they behaved differently.”

Nyota stares at him for a moment, relief washing over her that she hadn’t insulted him (she hoped) and picked up a fork. Quietly they eat, because in Vulcan society you did not discuss anything during dinner nor did you touch your food with your hands. When the food was gone and their plates had been taken away, they began again, questioning each other about their jobs and then their lives. They talked about growing up on different planets, about I-chaya the pet Sehlat Spock had once owned and never told Nyota about. Apparently I-chaya had belonged to Sarek before Spock; the Sehlat had been given to him by his father Skon. His mother was a beautiful Vulcan woman named T’Rama and he had a brother named Silek.  He also had a second son, a half-brother Spock had never told her of who was named Sybok.  In return Nyota told him of her life, about her Mama M'Umbha Uhura and her Baba Alhamisi Uhura, her adventurous brother Kamau and her often times difficult sister Makena. She told him about how she graduated from the Institute for advanced Mathematics,  expressed her curiosity about the Vulcan science academy which led to another long debate on the use of plasma in the warp core of a star-ship versus dilithium crystals.  They went on to discuss their schooling and their passions, mostly Nyota discussed her reasoning for being a communications officer, the fascination she had with languages and the difficulty she sometimes faced in mastering them.

               They had talked long into the night, until the restaurant was getting ready to close and had politely reminded them of it. They left the restaurant, Sarek’s mask of calm reserve neatly in place as Nyota trails along behind him with her hands clasped behind her back. When they are back in the flitter he waves his hand for it to proceed on and then falls silent, Nyota assuming that he probably knew where she lived and was taking her home. On the way to her apartment he did not close the privacy window and assumed that was because they needed to look professional, they needed to hold a certain amount of decorum between them so that others would not become suspicious. When the flitter finally stops Nyota smiles politely when the driver opens her car door and she steps out, blinking up at the….house?

“Come,” she hears him say as he walks around the side of the car and past her towards the front door, “I will show you the documentation I spoke of earlier.”

_Ok…Starfleet business…this is Starfleet business…_

Nyota nods politely and follows him, keeping her eyes averted and her expression blank. They weren’t going into his house for any other reason than to examine _documentation_. Much to her surprise however, there really _was_ documentation to examine. He took her into an enormous library, more books then she could read in a year and found herself enthralled. While examining the books, finding many human novels that were hundreds of years old, he pulled out an old leather bound journal and set it on his desk, flipping through the pages until he found the one he wanted. He called her over and showed it to her, proving his point from earlier about the difference between plasma and dilithium crystals.

_He just wanted to prove that he was right!_

The servants were quiet in the house, most of them either asleep or in other rooms across the house where they were out of hearing range. His security guards were stationed by the door to the library, thus he remained stoic and proper. Sarek was very good at pretending disinterest, good at pretending that she meant nothing more to him then an acquaintance of his who worked for Starfleet and knew his son. After a short while of talking he glances up at his security guards and clears his throat before speaking in V’tosh, “ _You are dismissed gentlemen that will be all for tonight_.”

The guards exchange looks before nodding, watching the pair in the library before leaving. When they were alone Sarek closes the book and then put it back on the shelf, sitting back in his desk chair to regard her. She was sitting across from him on the other side of his desk, watching him watch her. Finally she clears her throat and stands, “We’ll its getting late…I’d better get home.”

“Yes,” he says with a nod as he stands, walking with her to the front door, “I’ll arrange for them to take you home.”

“Thank you,” Nyota says with a polite smile as they stand at the doors to his home. To break the awkward pause between them she turns to leave but stops when his hand catches the shoulder strap of her dress, freezes in place when he trails his other hand over her right shoulder. She feels the heat of his body behind her and she isn’t sure what to do, feels the slightest hint of possessiveness in his hands as he caresses the soft material of her gown.

“I would ask you not to wear such… _revealing_ …attire again Nyota,” he says barely above a whisper, his behavior completely catching her off guard. One moment he’s all formality and charm and the next he’s possessive and brooding. She can sense the sudden tension in the air, knows that he asks this not because he is being prude but because he is possessive of her, because he believes that she is his and will not tolerate other men looking at what belongs to him. This was Vulcan possessiveness in all its glory, the desperate need to claim kept fighting to the surface beyond his calm Vulcan resolve.  Quietly she worries that somebody might overhear them; somebody might see him touching her like this. All thoughts flee from her head when she feels his teeth against her shoulder, biting down into the soft flesh.  She muffles a yelp as he curls an arm around her waist and pulls her back against him, whimpers quietly as he bites _hard_ , is reminded of a time six months ago of a similar situation when he held her like this.

               His grip tightens at her thoughts, realizes his hands are on her bare skin and he can hear her thoughts. He was testing the waters, watching to see if she was still receptive to the idea of him touching her like this. Six months was a long time, she could feel his concern that she did not want him anymore. She relaxes against him in response, leans her head back against his shoulder and turns her head to one side to allow him better access. They stand there like this for a short while, his arms around her like hot iron bars, pressing her up against his hard frame while his teeth were buried in her neck like a brand across her skin. When he releases her he doesn’t say anything, it was in his eyes when she turned to look up at him that she understands what he wants. This was the first time she discovers one of his tells; though his expression is blank his eyes are wide and dark, full of need. She steps into his embrace easily, lays her head against his chest in response and feels his relief through her skin.

               She isn’t certain how they made it upstairs into his bedroom, vaguely recalls him murmuring words to follow him, and doesn’t touch her the entire way until they are safely in his bedroom. When the door closes she sees him relax and turn towards her, stepping closer to her as he catches her by the waist and pulls her up against him, his free hand pulling the zipper down on her dress. She catches his mouth with hers and nibbles on his bottom lip, slides her tongue against his. Her fingers are pushing his outer robes off and then unbuttoning the collar of the robe under it, unraveling the material wrapped around his frame until she finds the hot skin of his chest and smooth’s her hands over it.

               She barely notices her gown fall to her hips as she slid her arm free of the shoulder strap, the vague snap of her bra being unclasped and pulled from her body. His mouth his hot against her breasts as his body pushes her towards his bed, crowding her as she tumbles back against the mattress. She sighs in contentment at the feel of his warm weight atop her, spreads her thighs as he settles between them. His mouth has latched onto her right breast while one of his hands slides along her waist and down to her thighs, dragging the shimmery gold fabric of her dress off of her hips. She lets her hands roam the expanse of his back, closes her eyes at the feel of his muscles tensing with his movements under her exploring fingers. He rises up as she does this, slides his cheek along hers and nuzzles against her neck. She returns the favor, nuzzles against his cheek in response as he then turns and slides his tongue along the column on her neck, nipping and tasting as he goes.

So _that’s_ why Vulcan women were so covered up.

               At first glance you’d think they wore so many clothes because they were just very conservative. The truth was that the men were highly possessive and didn’t want anybody looking at what belonged to them; secondly they had to cover up all those bite marks somehow. The women in Vulcan society were so feverishly cherished by their men that they were practically smothered by the Vulcan male’s need to protect his mate. She gasps when he rolls his hips, startled out of her revelry when she feels the hot press of his length slide against her core through his undergarments. Deftly she pulls the white cloth down over his hips and frees him, her fingers twisting and curling around him, stroking him until he was panting and twisting his legs to push the rest of his undergarments down off of his legs. When he was free of them he pressed her down into the mattress, his hips arching into her hands as she uses his pre-cum to smooth her hands down his _lok_ , watches his eyes slide closed, a low growling sound forming in the back of his throat.

               It takes only a couple of seconds before she feels him tearing off her silky black underwear, her hands releasing his _lok_ as he takes it in hand and slides the head of it back and forth from her clit down to her entrance, teasing her until she’s panting and whimpering against his shoulder. She lets out a snarl of frustration when she arches her hips towards him, tries to push herself against the hot steel length but he easily holds her hips down in place with his body, growls in warning against her ear as he continues to tease her. She finds that she likes him like this, likes how civil and stoic he is in public and how totally different he is when he’s alone with her. She slides her tongue across his shoulder to sooth the tension, feels his resolve to claim her firmly in his mind as he pushes the head of his _lok_ into her and then pulls back out, does this repeatedly until Nyota is whining against his shoulder in frustration. Panting heavily she nibbles at his shoulder, her irritation growing as he continues to torture her, certain that she will go mad if he doesn’t do something soon. Her nibbling becomes harder and more aggressive as her frustration grew; her body slick with sweat and her core aching with need. With a hiss she bites down on his shoulder, something she has never done before and is surprised by the sharp inhale of breath that he takes, his hips jerking forward seemingly of their own volition and filling  her completely. Pain shoots through her, mostly because her body was unused to his intrusion after six months of being without him. Six months she spent dreaming about him even when she kept trying to force herself to let him go, told herself to just move on. He snarls against her ear and his hands grip her hips tightly, his emotions flooding her mind.

_/Mine mine mine…/_

He had spent the majority of tonight watching her, spent the night irritated and frustrated with her lack of attention for him, with her dodging him, with other men touching her and looking at her. He spent the night aggravated though he never showed it, was as pleasant and calmly reserved as ever. He despised McCoy touching her, loathed to watch them dance with her body so revealed to other men in the fitted gold dress she wore. He was Vulcan and she was his chosen mate, though they were not bonded he would not give her up so easily. He had every intention of keeping her, of showing her that he was right for her, that he would be the most logical mate for her. He was willing to invoke _kali-fee_ for her, would fight to keep her by his side.

He would not let her go.

Vulcan emotions were breathtaking, Nyota thinks with wide eyes. They were so powerful it was no wonder that Vulcans used logic to control them. He takes her with a pace she recognizes as claiming, he wants to make it clear who she belongs too. He presses kisses across her shoulders and face, whispering cherishing words in the old Vulcan dialect. When she closes her eyes he demands she open them, demands that she look at him while he claims her. Arching her hips upwards she keens in response, thinks that this is the man she wants by her side, can no longer imagine being with any other. He takes his time with her body, slides his hands across her skin even though his hips are pounding into her body slow and hard, branding his claim across her skin and in her mind.

               She feels his fingers brushing against her face, recognizes what he needs and nods her head in permission. It was with sudden and surprising intensity as his mind wraps itself around hers, his thoughts pressing against hers like he’d been starved of her presence. She can now see his thoughts fully, understand his deep seated need to bond with her but his willingness to accept a mind-meld in place of it.

For now.

/ _I need this_ …/

She heard his mind whispering to her, their mutual pleasure combined through the mind meld as they both gasp and pant heavily, moving their bodies harmoniously against each other. She whimpers and curls her mind closer to his, the two of them pawing at each other and pressing as close as they can, feeding each other’s need for proximity. She finds her release when he bites down on her shoulder and pins her hips in place, the feel of his hot _khrasaya_ in her womb as she clenches down around him and cries out her pleasure in both his mind and out loud.

               Much later they’re second round of lovemaking is slower, his interest more intent upon knowing her body and its responses. He uses his fingers and mouth to please her, learns what she likes and dislikes, craves to know every inch of her. Through his fingers she can feel his need to mark her with his scent, to rub himself all over her and bury his body within her until she smells of him because this is the only way he can lay his claim upon her, show the other unattached males that she is his. They are not bonded so every instinct in him demands that he do this, demands that he protect her from the other males by marking her, by keeping them away from her.

               She senses his need and helps him, soothes his fears and his instincts by rubbing herself against him, letting him mark her with his body and his mouth. His fingers are wet with his _khrasaya_ as he rubs them all over her body. He slides his fingers between legs and over her stomach and breasts and then down her sides; finally when he is satisfied he rolls off of her to one side of the bed, dragging her into his arms. She is warm against his side as she curls close to him, burying her face in his neck as her eyes drift closed. It was remarkable how much she had missed him and how much she hadn’t realized that she did.

               In the early morning hours she feels him stir beside her, untangle himself from her arms gently and walk across his bedroom into his mediation room. Nyota hardly pays any attention to it and drifts back to sleep, curls into the warm sheets of his bed and revels in the warmth of his house, wonders why she hadn’t noticed the sweltering heat before. Nyota was good with heat; she was used to it because she’d grown up in Africa. Much later she stirs and blinks into the morning sunlight peeking through the curtains of his bedroom, yawns and stretches as she sits up to look around. He is still meditating but with the doors open this time, and smirks because she knows he left them open so that she couldn’t sneak out again.

               The moment her bare feet touch the warm wood floors he speaks without looking back at her, without so much as moving a muscle from his place on the floor of his meditation room, “I’ll be with you shortly.”

Nyota blinks at him and nods, gathering her clothes from the floor. Her bra was intact thankfully as she snaps it back into place but her underwear was demolished. Sliding the shimmery gold dress on over her body felt awkward without underwear on, her arm craning back behind her to zip it up.

“Allow me,” she hears him say and feels his hands touching her back as he zips up her dress. She opens her mouth to speak but suddenly feels the soft press of heavy material on her shoulders, blinks and realizes he’s placed one of his outer robes over her shoulders. She turns to glance at him as she pushes her arms through the sleeves and pulls the robe closed around her, “I…um…”

“I would prefer you to cover up,” he says quietly as he meets her gaze, sees the determination in his eyes.

“Alright,” she says with a nod, unsure of what else to say.

“Are you leaving?” he asks with a soft frown, watches her pull on her shoes.

“Yes,” she says as she glances up at him, watching the disproval play across his features, “Gaila’s probably flipping out because I haven’t come home yet.”

“I see,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers through her hair, rolling the silky locks between them, “Let me take you to dinner again.”

“Alright,” she says without hesitation and suppresses a wince at how quickly she answered him.

_Way to sound desperate Nyota…_

“I’ll have T’riel call you with the details later,” he says with a nod before adding, “Do you like music?” he asks as he walks with her downstairs. There are no servants in the house and she wonders where they’d gone but is grateful nobody is witnessing her walking downstairs in one of his outer robes.

“Yes,” Nyota nods as they step outside, his private flitter pulling up before them.

“Excellent,” he responds as the driver opens the car door for her and she climbs in with a grateful smile on her lips. He has gone stoic once more, his expression calm and reserved as he gives the driver instructions to take her home. He gives her one final nod before turning to go back into his house and she watches him until he disappears inside.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything or make any money from any of it, all of it belongs to those who created Star Trek.

When she gets home Gaila is frantic, nearly tackles her to the ground for answers to her whereabouts. “Where have you been?” she says, her eyes wide as saucers as she notices the Vulcan robes her friend wears, “ _Oh_ …oh no you didn’t…tell me you didn’t.”

“I… _might have_ …” Nyota trails off at the exasperated look on Gaila’s face.

“Nyota,” she whines loudly and sighs heavily, “I can’t believe you slept with the Vulcan _again_!”

“He took me to dinner after the gala…we got along really well,” Nyota says a little defensively, a frown curving her lips as she sets the outer robes on her bed and strips out of the gold dress, “He’s not that bad Gaila…he really isn’t…a little confusing at first but he’s alright otherwise.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt again,” Gaila frowns at Nyota.

“Sarek won’t hurt me,” Nyota says more confidently then she felt, even though his emotions last night were very determined.

“Oh _Sarek_ is it?” Gaila grins at her, “So…why are you…oh _wow_!” she says as she blinks at the bruises and bite marks on Nyota’s skin, “wow he gets a little carried away doesn’t he? You absolutely _reek_ of Vulcan.”

“They do get a little territorial,” Nyota agrees with a nod as she goes into the bathroom to start the shower. Once she was clean she comes out into the living room to find Gaila flipping through a magazine, one leg crossed over the other as she idly reads over the articles.

“So…are you sure you’re up for this?” She asks without looking at her, continuing to read the articles before her.

“Yes,” Nyota nods without having to ask about what she’s referring too, “I like Sarek.”

“Ok,” Gaila says with raised eyebrows, “just think he’s a little too old for you is all.”

“He certainly doesn’t act like it,” Nyota smiles to herself, feels the blush creeping over her cheeks when Gaila’s inquisitive gaze finds hers.

“Oh?” Gaila grins up at her from her seat on the couch, “He’s pretty wild in bed is he?”

“Oh stop it,” Nyota laughs as she smacks her friend in the arm with a cushion, “Sarek is a perfect gentleman.”

 

               A week later she finally hears from T’riel, explains that the Ambassador had been called away off planet and apologizes for the tardiness of his call. He tells her dinner has been prepared at his home and that the Ambassador’s private flitter will be by to pick her up promptly at six o’clock.

“A bit over presumptuous isn’t he?” Gaila calls from the living as she listens to the conversation with her keen sense of hearing.

“Tell the Ambassador I will be glad to join him,” Nyota tells T’riel politely before they bid each other good bye and hang up. She turns to look at Gaila and frowns, “He asked me to dinner a week ago at his house…he’s just been really busy and just now has the time to call me back.”

“Sounds good,” Gaila nods, “I told you he’d be a really busy man.”

“I know,” Nyota nods, “I expect nothing less from him. I want him to continue his work…I want him to focus on his career because I have every intention of focusing on mine as well. I would like to spend time with him though when we can…and this…I can work with this.”

“Ok,” Gaila shrugs, “If he makes you happy…he makes you happy. I’m just glad to see you smiling again.”

“It feels good to smile again,” Nyota says faintly as she realizes that she has in fact been smiling a lot more lately.

“Well,” Gaila says with a quirked eyebrow, “we need to go shopping.”

“He wasn’t particularly thrilled with my choice of attire at the gala…he didn’t like that it was so revealing.”

“So revealing to other men….or just to him? If it was just to other men….then he _did_ like it but he doesn’t want anyone else to see you dressed like that,” Gaila explains easily.

“I think he liked it,” Nyota admits with a smile, “He seemed rather fond of the material at least.”

“Then we find you something similar but with maybe a little blazer to go over it. Give him a sense of ease…you don’t want him climbing over the table in the middle of the first course to start marking territory because one of the servants was trying to look down the front of your dress.”

“Gaila,” Nyota says in exasperation, honestly the woman was so damn _stubborn_ sometimes.

“Nyota,” Gaila says pointedly, “we only have the month off for leave time…if you want to get to know that man…you only have a month to do it in….stop wasting time and go shopping with me.”

 

               Hours later she’s standing in their joint apartment wearing a pretty little red dress, something fashionable but conservative, it reminded her of a vintage nineteen-fifties dress. Over it she wore a black half-jacket, completing the ensemble with some of Gaila’s jewelry, Cardassian fire stones that set off beautifully with the dress.

“Red’s a little vibrant for a Vulcan Gaila,” Nyota says worriedly, fidgeting nervously with her fingers smoothing the skirt of her dress.

“I made sure it was a dark red,” Gaila tells her pointedly, “it shouldn’t hurt his Vulcan super-vision.”

“Ok…” Nyota says nervously as she hears the flitter pull up outside, “I’m outta here…see you later ok?”

“See ya,” Gaila waves as she watches her nervous friend leave, “Call me later!”

“I will,” Nyota calls back as she leaves the apartment.

Outside T’riel is waiting, opens the car door for her as she approaches. When she is safely inside the flitter drives off, T’riel sitting beside her in the flitter, “I must apologize,” he begins politely, “the ambassador had intended to take you out to see the ballet but I had mistakenly over-booked his schedule and he was unable to do so.”

“Oh…” Nyota smiles softly, “That’s alright.”

She watches him pour over the PADD in his lap for a few moments before speaking up again, “Which ballet did he plan on taking me too?”

“Your favorite,” T’riel blinks in response, “ _La Bayadere_.”

Nyota blinks at him and silently wonders how Sarek discovered that piece of information. They’d never discussed it, although the mind-meld might have given him a greater insight to her passions in particular.  She nods and turns to stare out the window, falling silent for the rest of the journey to Sarek’s house.  When they arrive T’riel gets out and opens the door for her, follows her into the house afterwards. She is shown into the library where she waits quietly, examining a beautiful marble chess set by one of the large windows. She waits for what feels like hours, knows that he must be very busy and feels honored that he’d set time aside to try and get to know her. It really did feel special to think that a man as accomplished as him would want her, would take the time to get to know her as Sarek did.  She is sliding her fingers over the white queen chess piece and reminiscing on the day she found a similar piece on her desk back at the academy. It was the day that she knew Spock loved her, the day she’d beaten him at three dimensional chess.  It felt like ages ago that day, days spent playing chess and talking about the dreams of their careers. She wondered if Sarek played chess or if this was merely a decorative piece, wondered if maybe Spock learned it all from him.

“Do you enjoy chess?” Sarek’s voice cuts through her thoughts and she stiffens slightly, turning to face him. She relaxes her body before responding, knows that he probably caught her surprised reaction, “Yes…I’ve been playing since I was a kid…I love playing it.”

Sarek nods, “We should perhaps attempt a game tonight.”

“I would enjoy that,” Nyota nods politely as he approaches her, watches as his gaze swept over her attire. She didn’t expect him to like it, knows that the colors are too bright and the dress did not conceal everything from view. He seems pleased though, even if his face is blank and his demeanor is calm and reserved. His eyes hold warmth in them that tells her he likes it, is almost amused by it.

“Please,” he says as he motions towards the dining room, “dinner is ready.”

“Thank you,” Nyota says politely and sweeps past him, finding relief in the fact that there aren’t any servants present in the house (at least none that she saw) and sits down at the table across from him, admires the candles in the center and the spicy smell of Vulcan food enticing her senses.  When they eat she wonders if this is some kind of test, wonders if he’s trying to decide what her tastes were when it came to Vulcan food. Sarek never did things in a way she expected; though he was a very logical and highly efficient man, he also had the ability to completely baffle her. She eats delicately, is careful not to touch the food with her fingers and reminds herself of Vulcan etiquette over and over again silently. She wanted to relax around Sarek and yet he was not Spock, his ways were different from Sarek’s. Sarek was much harder than Spock, he was stricter when it came to protocol, which was obvious considering his job which required him to uphold a certain level of decorum at all times.

When she finishes her dinner she realizes Sarek is watching her curiously, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Amanda used to do that,” he comments lightly, “She once told me that she found it intimidating to date another of a different species…that my species in particular made even the consumption of sustenance a daunting task. Do you find this to be true as well?”

They have never discussed Amanda before, haven’t discussed past relationships with each other in general. Nyota wouldn’t dare bring Amanda up until he was ready to talk about her, knows that Amanda had been the love of his life. “Sometimes,” Nyota admits quietly, “even when I was dating Spock I often felt like I was struggling to keep up…that our etiquette was so different I was afraid I would offend him.”

Sarek nods as he sips his tea, regarding her thoughtfully, “When I first began to court Amanda I found I had a similar situation with her. Truth be told I was just as baffled as she was; it took us both quite a while to find a common ground and reach an agreement. I had to learn her ways as she had to learn mine but once we found our common ground things were much easier between us.”

She wanted to ask about Amanda…wanted to learn more about Spock’s mother but didn’t dare to ask. She watched Sarek quietly, watched as his eyes grew distant and mournful as he thought of his beloved Amanda, felt such heart wrenching pity for the Vulcan before her. He mourned the loss of his mate even now, would always love her and would always miss her. Nyota found she understood his pain even if only fractionally, would always love Spock but accepted his loss nonetheless; she wanted him to be happy even if that wasn’t with her.

“One of her favorite hobbies was her garden…would you like to see it?” Sarek asks as he stands, and Nyota thinks this isn’t really a request. She can tell he wants to go there, wants to stand amongst the beautiful flowers in the garden his wife had made, knows that they symbolize the color and life she had brought into his world.

 

               Outside the sky is overcast and dark, the smell of rain on the wind that brushes against her skin like a soft caress. They walk through the shrubbery, weaving their way through the trees on his property until they reach a small rose garden; every color imaginable was shimmering in the darkness, vibrant against the harsh bland desert colors of Sarek’s home. _This was who Amanda was_ Nyota thinks; she was a bright light in the middle of a barren desert, the color that illuminated Sarek’s mundane world. She couldn’t help the tears that stung her eyes, felt such terrible sorrow for Sarek’s loss. She would never live up to such a woman, could never compare to the life and love that Amanda had brought Sarek.  She feels an overwhelming sense of panic at this, feels as if she does not belong here and that she should not be here with Sarek.

She wasn’t good enough for him.

She blinks away the threat of tears and turns away from him to examine the roses, gives him the privacy he deserves as he reminisces of his lost beloved.  When she feels him standing close behind her she glances back at him, watches his expression shutter closed. It was then that she realized he’d been allowing his emotions to surface, had been allowing himself to feel the loss of his _ashayam_. When he speaks he is quiet and reserved though his eyes are filled with something she could not name.

“I remember when she first planted these,” he tells her as he ponders the roses, “she loved color…filled her life with it. Though I wasn’t very tender with her, not nearly as much as I should have been I loved her,” he admits quietly and Nyota thinks this is a private confession, knows that he would never normally admit to such emotions to anyone else aside from Spock, “I will not be tender Nyota…I am Vulcan…our logic prevails over our emotions. I will not be able to provide you with all that you need emotionally but I will…try…to give you what I can. I cannot say that I learned nothing during my time with Amanda…I came understand human emotion much better with her. There will be times when I appear to be cold and unyielding but I assure you that what I display is not truly what I feel…I am merely following the path of my own logic.”

“I understand,” Nyota says as she steps closer, ignores the soft patter of rain sprinkling around them, “You don’t have to explain.”

“I just wanted you to know,” he tells her firmly, stares down at her with dark eyes as she leans up to kiss him.

“I know,” she murmurs against his lips, doesn’t honestly care if the staff of his home were lined up on the lawn watching right then.  When the rain steadily becomes harder she hears him muffle a grunt of displeasure against her lips and she grins, letting out a soft sigh as she releases his lips and leans back to look up at him, “You promised me a chess game I believe.”

“I did,” he admits with a nod, relief in his eyes that she would help him save face in light of his break of control. She follows him back into the house; into the living room which was stiflingly hot much to Nyota’s relief. She was shivering with cold as she shrugged off her overcoat and watched Sarek shrug off his own outer robes before motioning to the chess set by the window.

She finds his skills at chess were much better than Spocks. When they first began she was confident, knows that she has beaten Spock so logically she stood a chance at beating Sarek as well. His mind was much more calculated the Spock’s, he took longer to consider his moves and he swiftly if not ruthlessly annihilated any chance of her winning. When he announced his check mate she just stared at him, blinking into the dim light of the library.  He’d beaten her within a half-hour of starting the game, though she put up one hell of a fight he’d still managed to win.

               He looks positively triumphant though he tries hard to conceal it, but she can tell he’s hiding it by the way his eyes are just a tad too bright and the creases of his brow are just a little too thin. Nyota had thrown every trick she knew at him, had used every tactical maneuver she knew to win and he’d bested all of them.  Nyota leans back in her seat to regard him, smiles at him briefly as she shakes her head and stares down at the board, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone aside from Spock who was so talented at chess.”

“Chess is a game of logic,” Sarek explains smoothly, “I find gratification in such games.”

“You play chess a lot then I take it?” Nyota inquires as they reset the board.

“I do,” he nods as he motions for her to make the first move.

“You taught Spock then also I take it?” Nyota says as she shifts her pawn across the board and watches him make a move.

“I did,” Sarek says and she could have sworn there was amusement in his eyes as he says it, thinks that he must find it endlessly amusing that she managed to beat his son at chess and yet none of her skills at chess were able to help her beat him as well.

“My son though he has a very sharp mind,” Sarek comments casually as he shifts his rook across the board, “has never been able to beat me either.”

“My,” Nyota says airily though her tone is playful, “If I didn’t believe you such a prudent Vulcan I would have thought I heard amusement in your tone Sarek.”

“Vulcans do not feel amusement,” he chimes in readily and Nyota stifles a laugh at his words.

“Of course not,” Nyota smirks at him even as he stares back at her blankly though there is the faintest trace of mirth in his eyes.

When they finished their second game they reset the board, Nyota pondering the events of earlier as she asks, “How did you know my favorite ballet is _La Bayadere_?”

Sarek pauses as he sets up his chess pieces to glance up at her, “Through the mind-meld of course. Considering your experience with touch-telepaths and your history with my son I would assume you knew of the ramifications of such an act.”

“I do,” Nyota says as she flushes lightly, “I just wasn’t aware that you saw…that much.”

“What is revealed cannot always be controlled,” Sarek explains easily, “For example…I’ve also been made aware of your fondness for old books and thunderstorms…your delight in all forms of music including the ballet…your love of the Vulcan lyre…I must admit I find the lyre a pleasant musical instrument myself.”

“Do you play?” Nyota asks as an eyebrow rises in curiosity.

“Yes,” Sarek nods, “I taught Spock how to play it.”

They fall silent once again as they begin another round of chess, Nyota admires Sarek’s look of concentration as he watches her make her first move. Half way through the game he glances up at her, sits back in his seat to watch her, “I must address something that I think perhaps you may have misunderstood.”

“Oh?” Nyota’s asks as she makes another move on the board before them, shifting her knight forward.

“I have not behaved as I should with you,” he says quietly, “I am not courting you as I should be.”

“What are you doing that you think is inappropriate?” Nyota frowns at him from across the table.

“Generally we do not…mate… with one who is not bonded to us however considering the circumstances I am not so objective too it. By the rights of Vulcan law you are mine,” he says calmly as if speaking of the weather, the way he says it makes a shiver run down her spine, “In truth if I were to bond with you…you would be my mate…we would not technically have to wait another seven years, I am merely providing you with the time you need to accept what is. I have observed that humans require such things, and I accept that your mating practices are different from mine.”

“So you’re saying that because I was there during your….time…technically we’re one bond short of being married?” Nyota says, leaning back in her seat. This was something she had considered by did not address the idea of it because she thought perhaps because they didn’t bond during his Ponn Farr that it wouldn’t count.

Vulcans were just picky like that.

“Exactly,” he nods in response, watching her with the typical Vulcan stoicism, “I feel that I have broken certain rules of etiquette for human mating practices.”

“You haven’t…” Nyota says as she shakes her head, “sex is a part of that.”

“You must understand,” he says quietly as he stares down at the chess board, “it is difficult for me to resist bonding with you. These are instincts born of thousands of years…the beginning of them predates back to the very beginning of the Vulcan people…I apologize if I seem demanding of you.”

“It’s alright,” Nyota says as she meets his gaze, “I really do understand…you can’t help it…it’s just part of who you are.”

He nods thoughtfully, stares down at the chessboard before moving another piece. They continue on in silence until the game is finished and he has managed to beat her three times in a row.

“Alright,” Nyota says as she stretches her arms out, “I’d probably better get home.”

“I would prefer you to stay,” he says so bluntly it catches her off guard, her mouth dropping open in shock. Quickly she snaps it closed and averts her gaze down to the chess board. She feels the burn of his gaze on her face and knows he’s waiting for an answer, knows that he has come to rather like having her here with him.

“If people were to notice me staying the night here all the time it would look suspicious,” Nyota tells him gently, doesn’t want him to get the wrong idea.

“If people were to inquire I would simply tell them the truth,” he responds easily, “ _Kaiidth_ …” he tells her firmly, “what is…is.”

“What exactly did you plan on telling them?” Nyota asks with a raised eyebrow.

“That you are my _ko-kugalsu_ ,” he says, blinking at her as if it were obvious.

“Were not exactly betrothed Sarek,” Nyota says pointedly.

“Not yet,” he retorts quickly and she can’t help but smile at the stubborn determination in his eyes.

“Presumptuous,” Nyota says saucily and he tilts his head to one side to regard her before responding.

“Logical,” he retorts smoothly.

“Logic tells you that I’ll marry you?” Nyota says with a raised eyebrow.

“Logic tells me that we are already married,” he answers without hesitation, “We have merely neglected a certain formality of it.”

“Sarek,” Nyota sighs in exasperation though a smile is curving her lips, “why do you even want to marry me? I mean honestly….don’t you want to marry someone who has influence...someone who could aid you in your duties. Sarek I’m a communications officer on a Starfleet ship…I’m neither a diplomat nor do I come from a wealthy family. You need someone more capable than me, I mean…” Nyota pauses and stares down at the table in front of her, “Logically I’m not the best choice…if you feel like you have to marry me because you feel obligated then don’t…I want you to marry someone _you_ want to marry…not because you feel that you must.”

“It is true,” he says after a long pause, “I felt in the beginning that it was my duty to uphold your honor being that I was the one to take it from you,” he tells her quietly, watches her face intently as he speaks, “You agreed to be mine however…and I chose you before you ever offered your aid…so you must know that I feel no obligation towards you now but a simple truth rather, that you are mine….and I cannot change what my instincts demand…I find you fascinating and we enjoy each other’s company…is this not what good marriages are built on? I realize we are not exactly the most ideal pairing, but we compliment each other nicely regardless.”

_He was serious about this._

Nyota felt fear race up and down her spine, fear that she will fail him as a mate, the pressures of being a diplomat’s wife were intense, and the public eye would constantly be on her. More and more she began to realize her dreams of working for Starfleet were slipping away from her, knows that to be Sarek’s wife would mean that she would have to give up her commission.  He made her happy though, she enjoyed his company and he challenged her, she’d grown into herself more around him.  She found contentment being in his arms, though he had a tendency to be stubborn and unyielding in his ways, determined to drive her crazy (probably.)

“You do not agree,” Sarek’s voice cuts through her thoughts and she blinks up at him, realizes what he said was a statement and not a question.  His expression has shuttered closed, the calm and reserved Vulcan façade falling into place as he clasps his hands neatly against his chest and leans back in his seat to watch her. She could tell that he was hesitant about her response, as if bracing for the worst. His demeanor reminded her of when he would face down an opposing ambassador during one of his meetings, prepared to argue his side until he won.

“I never said that,” Nyota says quietly, “I merely meant to say that we _are_ an odd pairing...I worry that you are doing this because you feel it’s the logical thing to do Sarek…when what I want for you is something a little more Terran…more _human_ ….I want you to marry someone who will make you happy.”

“As I have stated before,” he responds as he meets her gaze, “We enjoy each other’s company; I see no reason to question such logic.”

_He was really determined….she wasn’t going to get away from him this time…._

Nyota sighs in defeat, not willing to argue with him on this any further. In truth she was content with him, but she feared he was making a mistake by choosing her, felt that he needed someone of a higher rank beside him rather than a twenty-seven year old communications officer. They sit there for what feels like hours regarding each other in silence, Nyota finding it oddly easy to sit in the silence with him, his presence alone was enough to content her. Finally she speaks, her eyes drifting down towards the chess pieces on the board before her, “I haven’t brought anything with me.”

“I have already obtained items for your personal use should you chose to stay here with me,” he replied easily. Nyota blinks down at the table, thinks that he was definitely being presumptuous now. He would call it logical of course, would say that it was a logical action to obtain clothes and hygienic products for her in the event that she chose to stay the night with him again. Part of her wanted to rebel against this, but a bigger part of her liked being in his arms, liked the way he was so possessive and protective of her.

“Gaila will be worried,” Nyota responds softly.

“T’riel will reassure your friend of your safety and wellbeing. I will have him notify her later if you wish.”

He stares at her as if willing her to find another excuse, is prepared to counteract it if necessary. Nyota admires the way he is so determined to keep her, likes that though he is being stubborn he has also given her the opportunity to leave regardless of how he feels about the matter. She is trying to win an argument with an ambassador, a _famous_ ambassador at that. He is also a Vulcan, which makes her odds of winning very unlikely, knows that his logic will most likely win this round.

“Do you not find my company enjoyable?” he questions when she doesn’t respond and she meets his gaze, tilts her head to one side as she answers.

“I have often found your company enjoyable,” Nyota says softly, can see the slightest hint of hesitation in his features. It is this that reminds her that he must be just as nervous about this relationship as she is, must worry that she will not have him as she had worried he would not have her.

“Then why deny me?” he says quietly and Nyota blinks at the tone of his voice, surprised by how deep his voice had suddenly become. Nyota understands what he wants, realizes that he needs to be able to touch her and wonders when this sort of connection between them had occurred. They were not bonded and yet they felt drawn to each other, she could sense his need for proximity and thinks that this was probably a result of his instincts demanding that he bond with her. Without the bond he felt overly protective of her, was afraid that someone would steal her away from him. His instincts were in overdrive because of her and she felt a little guilty about that.

               He seems to stiffen at her lack of response and realizes he must have interpreted her silence as rejection. His expression is blank and she thinks he is biting back what he wants to say, fighting the urge to give into his emotions.  She gets to her feet and walks around the table towards him, watched him watch her as she kneels beside his chair and gently takes his hand in hers, closes her eyes as she presses her cheek into his palm. She is careful to keep his fingers away from her psi points, wants to give him the option to do so if he wants too. He seems to understand what she wants and presses his fingers against her face, sighs as their minds press against each other. The meld only lasts for a moment, but gives a greater insight to what each of them wants. She can feel his need to keep her with him, the pull of bondmates was strong between them, his instincts driving him to behave in a way he wouldn’t normally act, has allowed his emotions to surface when normally he’d keep them tightly concealed. He feels irritation and embarrassment at his lack of control, having not experienced such a loss of control since the day he’d met Amanda.  He is in a constant state of agitation, mostly because he spends his time worrying after her, unable to touch her mind and sense her current state of wellbeing.

               Nyota shows him her hesitation, her fear at being inadequate, her desire to hold onto her career and see it through. She wants to be at his side; she likes his company and finds him as much an engaging partner as he finds her to be. She shows him her affection for him, though it was still growing as she became accustomed to him. When he pulls away from her mind and releases her from the mind meld she is quietly concerned that his agitation will affect his duties. She doesn’t want to cause Sarek to lose his composure though she can tell he is very diligent in his meditative practices. She hears him sigh as she stands, tries not to look at him because she feels very vulnerable suddenly, having admitted her insecurities too him in a none too subtle way.

“I had not realized your distress,” he admits quietly, stepping up behind her.

“I worry a lot I suppose,” Nyota says with a half-smile, gazing down at the pretty Vulcan rug beneath her feet.

“You worry for good reason,” he says in response, “Though I must assure you in my belief that you would be a suitable mate for me.”

He steps around her, catching her chin with his fingers. She gazes up at him, waits for him to continue and when he doesn’t she feels the mild hint of panic rising in her, worry threatening to seize hold of her rational thought. He drops his head before she can protest, catches her lips with his and slides his tongue against hers. Her words of protest are muffled against his lips as she tries to reason with him, tries to explain her failures but he would not hear it.

“ _Sarek_ ,” she sighs against his lips, exasperated by his tenaciousness, distracted by the way his hands were sliding up and down her sides in a soothing rhythm. She thinks that perhaps he learned this technique from when he was married to Amanda, thinks that he has learned how to respond to human emotions quite well. Part of her wanted to protest this though, part of her wanted to go home and think about it a bit longer. She has no time to complete this thought however when she feels him pushing her down against the couch, sliding her down over the arm of it until her lower body is propped up against the arm and her back is pressed into the cushions.

_Wait…wait not here…this place isn’t exactly private…what if they…_

She has no time to finish that thought either, yelps when she feels his teeth digging into her inner thigh. Pain shoots through her but is muffled by his hot insistent fingers, yanking at her underwear until they tear haphazardly and he is free to explore. She whimpers when he pushes two fingers into her, curling them upward and brushing against a place inside of her that makes her moan. His mouth joins his fingers and she feels her toes practically curl in contentment, panting lightly as he uses his mouth and fingers to make her scream. When she orgasms she is certain she is pulling his hair just a little too hard, hears him growl in response and nib at the sensitive lips of her core.

“ _Sarek_ ,” Nyota breathes softly, feels him sliding his mouth up her stomach, his hands pushing her dress up higher around her waist, “Not here..” she murmurs and when he doesn’t respond, continues nipping and touching her skin she feels a mild thrill of panic rush through her. “Sarek,” she tries again gently, slides her hands through his hair and massages the back of his neck with the tips of her fingers, “Sarek not here.”

He stills against her and she thinks he has finally recovered some of his sanity, raises his head to blink up at her. It is then that she sees him begin to notice where they are and what they’re doing. She tries not to giggle when he pulls away quickly and straightens out his robes, Nyota rolling to one side and climbing to her feet, pulling her dress down and smoothing the wrinkled fabric neatly with her fingers. She hears him growl and snaps her gaze up towards him, watched him pace the room until he stops before a window and murmurs irritably to himself, “Illogical…completely _illogical_ …”

“Sarek?” she asks gently, walks up behind him and touches his shoulder gently.

“I have behaved most inappropriately,” he begins quietly; “I have behaved like a _V’tosh Ka’tur_.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” she tells him earnestly, “I’m alright.”

“I have neglected all sense of decorum,” he hisses darkly, his eyes narrowed in irritation, “I have risked both our dignities.”

“I doubt anybody saw us,” Nyota trails off as he turns to walk away from her, motions for her to follow him. She can tell he dislikes the loss of his composure, dislikes maddening sense of discord within his thoughts when she is around him. She hears him grumbling to himself all the way up the stairs towards his room, hears him mutter in V’tosh reprimanding words towards himself and his determination to meditate later.

               When they make love he is more aloof than normal, more controlled in his actions. She falls asleep later in the early morning hours curled up beside him. When she wakes later he is meditating in the other room and she watches him quietly for a while before drifting back to sleep again. She knows that his logic is important to him; unlike Spock he clings to it tightly and is determined to control his emotions and behave as the logic of his decorum demands of him.

               She is woken again hours later to the feel of his lips against her shoulder and easily maneuvers beneath him, cradles him between her thighs. When she feels his body stretching hers she sighed in contentment and raises her hips to meet his, whimpers and keens in delight as she pants against his shoulder. It is in the way that he holds her to him that she senses his apology, his heavy discomfort with his lack of control and his desire to reassure her that he wants her regardless of it. She falls asleep with her head on his chest afterwards, dreams of Vulcan before it was destroyed and explores the looming rock formations near the forge. When she next wakes it is Sarek who wakes her again, but this time he has food sitting on a tray beside the bed.

_He brought her breakfast in bed….that was so sweet!_

“I never understood the logic of bringing one’s nutritional requirements to the bed chamber,” he begins as he hands her a cup of hot tea, “I found it an entirely illogical act but Terrans seem to enjoy it.”

_Way to kill the moment Sarek…_

She sits up and leans against the headboard, sipping from the tea cup that was handed to her as she regards the tray of food beside the bed. She reaches over and picks up a fork, spearing a piece of strawberry from the plate of fruit on the tray and taking a bite of it.

“You enjoy fruit?” he asks as he sits on the side of the bed to watch her.

“I like fruit,” she nods with a sleepy smile as she takes another bite of strawberry.

She notes that he is fully dressed and starts to scan the room for her own clothes, spots her red dress neatly folded on a nearby table. He notices what she is doing and stills for a moment before recovering his composure, “I have a meeting to attend to in an hour…you may stay and rest if you wish or return home. Your friend has been informed of your wellbeing and as she informed T’riel….she won’t be waiting up for you.”

“I see,” Nyota nods as she climbs out of bed, grabbing her clothes from the table. She wasn’t about to hang out in his house parading around his room naked while he was out attending to his ambassadorial duties. She would only be on leave till the end of this month, therefore she wanted to spend some time at the beach and maybe even do a little sightseeing.

“I understand your leave-time extends to the end of this month,” he comments as if reading her mind and she nods as she slips her dress on, “I’ll be stationed back on the Enterprise.”

“I’ll most likely be remaining on Earth until then,” he nods thoughtfully, “I must return to the colony on New Vulcan to check on their progress.”

“How are they doing anyways?” Nyota asks curiously as she puts on her shoes.

“They are doing well,” Sarek explains as he watches her dress, “My efforts at helping those who Captain Kirk had helped return to us from the desert lands has been productive. They have successfully integrated back into society.”

“That’s wonderful,” Nyota smiles, pleased to hear that the Vulcan people are doing well.

“It is a small victory,” Sarek agrees with a slight nod, “though it brings hope to my people.”

“I had better get home,” Nyota says after a short pause, running her fingers through her hair to tame the wild mess that it has become.

“There is a delegation dinner tonight at the embassy…would you join me?” Sarek asks as he follows her downstairs. Nyota feels the nervousness from last night start to rise up, quells it as quickly as she can before Sarek notices, “I would love too.”

“I would ask,” he says as she reaches the front door, “that you dress accordingly.”

 _Vulcan robes_ ….where the hell was she going to get Vulcan robes?

“Sarek…I’m not exactly certain where I’d find--…” Nyota trails off as he responds to her question before she can finish asking it.

“T’riel will send the flitter to retrieve you later and take you to a shop in town that you may procure them at.”

“Can I bring Gaila?” Nyota asks with a raised eyebrow.

“If you feel that she can hold her silence on the matter at hand,” he says, motioning between them.

“She won’t tell anyone,” Nyota says, smiling softly.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything or make any money from any of it, all of it belongs to those who created Star Trek.

When she is safely in the flitter and deposited back on her front doorstep she finds the apartment quiet, Gaila’s bedroom door still closed. She must have gotten in late, Nyota surmised easily as she went into the kitchen to make coffee. Twenty minutes later Gaila appears half asleep, stumbling into the kitchen and fumbling in the cabinet for a coffee cup, “Hey…” she mumbles in greeting as she stands with Nyota, waiting for the coffee pot to finish brewing.

“Good morning,” Nyota says cheerfully and suppresses a grin when Gaila scowls at her, knows that her friend must have drank just a little too much the night before. “So,” Nyota continues when Gaila says nothing, proceeds to fill her coffee cup, “Were going shopping today.”

“Another date huh?” Gaila asks as she sips her coffee.

“Yep,” Nyota nods in response, “I’m going to a delegation dinner at the embassy…and I have to wear Vulcan robes.”

“Oh,” Gaila’s expression flickers to curiosity and mild excitement, “where are we getting those from?”

“A shop in town….T’riel is sending the flitter over later to take me to it and Sarek said you could come with me if you wanted too,” Nyota says hopefully.

“Well of course I will,” Gaila grins at her friend, “I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to see you being poked and prodded by some Vulcan hag while being layered up in those robes they always wear. Seriously though…do you think they’re hiding something under there? Does Sarek have tentacles or something?”

“No,” Nyota snorts into her coffee with a laugh, “he does not have tentacles.”

“Really? Vulcans are so secretive…you’d think they’d have something going on under all that material,” Gaila says before yawning, stretching her body out tiredly, “Ok I’m gonna go shower and get ready.”

“Same here,” Nyota agrees as she finishes her coffee.

The shop they were taken to was near the harbor, a few blocks away from the embassy. Inside they met a tall Vulcan woman who although kept a distinct air of reserve and disinterest about her had a clear distaste in her eyes for the human and her Orion companion. Nyota was fitted for formal Vulcan robes, prodded and pinch multiple times by the irritating Vulcan seamstress who clearly liked Nyota about as much as she liked her. Gaila kept to the background, making idle comments about color choices and how over-done some of the headdresses were in a glass case by the front counter.

“You’d fall over trying to wear one of those,” Gaila remarks casually, “They look like they’d weigh at least ten pounds.”

“I kind of like this one though,” Nyota muses about one of the smaller headdresses towards the back of the case, a shimmering set of Vulcan fire stones that would match the burnt orange and dark brown of her formal robes.

“That would look pretty,” Gaila agrees with a bright smile, “I wonder how much that one costs?”

Nyota wrinkles her nose at it, “Way too much,” she says as she regards the astronomical price tag and turns away from it afterwards, “I think these will do just fine.”

Gaila scans over the highly conservative outfit, the tightly laced corset under the thickly layered robes of burnt orange and dark brown, the material covering clear up to the base of her neck and down to her wrists, hides her feet under the thick flowing material of her skirt.

“You are very….concealed,” Gaila finished lamely, frowns in distaste at the gown, “It’s beautiful…but it’s just not my style.”

“I can barely move in this thing,” Nyota grouses as she tests the elasticity of the gown.

“Don’t I need a scarf or something?” Nyota frowns at the seamstress who nods and retrieves a shimmering gold and burnt orange scarf, “You wear this over the headdress,” the seamstress explains.

“Defeats the purpose of the headdress don’t you think?” Gaila asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“Not if you wear it correctly,” the seamstress scowls at the Orion.

Nyota watches the staring match between the Vulcan and the Orion with interest. The only Vulcan Gaila has ever gotten along with was Spock, and that was only because he had been Nyota’s boyfriend at the time and Nyota had asked her to try and get along with him.

“Ok,” Nyota cuts in, breaking the silence between the Vulcan and the Orion, “Let’s pay for this and get going…I want to hit the beach today.”

“Maybe we should pick different colors though,” Gaila says as she reexamines the gown Nyota is wearing.

“I have specific instructions,” the seamstress cuts in; “Those colors are to be worn.”

“Ok,” Nyota says with raised eyebrows as she pulls out her credit chip to pay for the clothes. The seamstress waves her chip away, “The price has been settled already.”

“What?” Nyota blinks at her.

The Vulcan looks mildly irritated at having to repeat herself, her expression pinched as she reiterates, “They’ve already been paid for.”

“Oh…ok…thank you,” Nyota says and glances at Gaila who stares right back at her friend, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly agape.

               When the clothes had been taken off and wrapped up, Nyota walks with Gaila back towards the flitter where the driver is waiting. They climb back into the car and are taken home, Gaila spending the majority of the time questioning about the clothes. When the get back to the apartment they gather their beach bags and head out, intent on going to the beach. They spend the rest of day there, and when they get back T’riel is waiting for them on the front doorstep. He looks out of place in dark Vulcan robes against the bright white apartment walls and the busy multi-colored flitters whizzing by, the loud laughter of tourists and pedestrians pacing by on the side walk.

“T’riel,” Nyota greets with a smile, watches him shift uncomfortably.

“I have been instructed to pick you up,” T’riel explains easily as he takes in their beach attire.

“Oh,” Nyota says with wide eyes, “I was told you wouldn’t be here till at least six….let me run in and get ready then.”

“There is no need to rush,” T’riel adds quickly, “I just came early so that I might brief you on the itinerary for tonight.”

“Alright,” Nyota says as she unlocks the door and motions him to follow her into the house. “Do you mind if I take a quick shower?”

“Not at all, take your time,” T’riel nods as he takes a seat in the living room to wait.

Nyota glances at Gaila and motions towards T’riel before running upstairs to get ready.

A half hour later she is struggling with her formal robes, fidgeting uncomfortably as she makes her way downstairs. Gaila had to come upstairs ten minutes earlier to help her with the corset, leaving T’riel alone in the living room. Nyota felt guilty about leaving him on his own, sees the relief on his face as she enters the living room and smiles politely at him, “I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she apologizes quickly, “I would have been ready sooner had I known about the briefing.”

“It was my mistake T’sai,” he explains easily, “I neglected to inform you of it.”

“Well I’m here now,” Nyota smiles politely a she sits down across from him.

T’riel spends the next twenty minutes talking about rules. Rules of etiquette, rules about questions, rules about answers, boundaries of what she can talk about and what she cannot, behavior in public and how in the eyes of Vulcan society she will be watched carefully because she is Sarek’s dinner date therefore she is also representing the Vulcan people.

This was going to be fun.

               When T’riel finished his ‘briefing’ and Nyota went back upstairs to finish getting ready six o’clock rolled around quickly. She had carefully braided her hair in a style she’d seen in a magazine somewhere, a picture of some random fancy looking Vulcan woman with her hair in braids.  Nyota really didn’t know what she was doing when it came to Vulcan society, she knew the etiquette but she’d never really put it into practice before. It was nerve wracking to think she’d have to spend an evening in the company of many high ranking Vulcan diplomats and hoped she did not embarrass Sarek.

               When she is finished getting ready she heads back downstairs, finds T’riel waiting in the living room once more. He stands and bows his head politely, “S’haile Sarek is waiting for you in the flitter S’tai Nyota.”

Lady Nyota.

She’d never really considered what he was calling her before, never really noticed that T’riel seemed to see the connection between herself and Sarek before they did.  She felt like the title was too much for her, that having people bow and call her ‘lady Nyota’ felt odd. She waves goodbye to Gaila and follows T’riel out to the flitter, wonders silently when he’d snuck out to go pick up Sarek. She finds that she is nervous as she slides into the flitter, worries that her formal robes might not please him. She glances at him, finds him breathtaking in his pressed black formal robes, the shimmering gold of his family name embroidered down the front of it. He is scanning her outfit a little longer then he should, notes that his fingers are inching towards the material covering her thighs and thinks that he does like it.

“You look aesthetically pleasing tonight,” he comments lightly and she tries not to grin at his attempt to compliment her. Vulcans were terrible at human compliments as Nyota recalls, remembers Spock attempting to compliment her once on dress she wore once and ended up sounding like he was talking about the molecular structure of the fiber used to make her dress.

“Thank you,” Nyota smiles back at him politely, “You look nice too.”

“Thanks are unnecessary,” Sarek responds easily, “It is fact.”

“I see,” Nyota nods, nervous and worried about the evening ahead of them. It wasn’t like she’d never been to a delegation dinner before, she has been requested many times to translate during those dinners, but she has never been in the spotlight before, never had to sit at the table and eat with the delegates.

The ride to the embassy is quiet, and she is certain he is still staring at her. “Thank you,” she says quietly, “I know you’re going to say it’s unnecessary but on my planet…Thank you…for the robes…I really could have paid for them though…it’s…it’s a lot….and…thank you.”

“Illogical,” he dismisses casually, runs his finger over the material of her right shoulder, “I invited you to this event and asked you to dress accordingly, therefore it is I who should pay for the garments.”

Nyota falls silent because she can’t think of anything to say, tries to ignore the feel of his warm fingers on her shoulder as he draws tiny patterns across the material. When they arrive his hand falls away to his side, the doors to the flitter are opened and they both get out. Quietly she follows Sarek into the embassy, tries to ignore the curious stares of the Vulcans they pass by.

They enter a dense crowd of people, light classical music playing in the background as she follows him around the room, politely smiling and bowing her head gracefully when he introduces her to the different delegates in the room. She is careful to stick to the topics that she is permitted to speak of according to the rules T’riel had spoken of earlier that day. The music sounded lovely, but as Nyota distinctly recalled, Vulcans do not dance. When dinner was served they took their assigned seats, Nyota sitting next to Sarek at the long table in the adjoining room to the ballroom. The smell of spicy Vulcan food enticed her senses, though she was actually quite hungry after making the trek across the ballroom several times with Sarek she refrained from eating with her bare hands like some barbaric primitive and picked up the fork next to the plate, eating slowly and delicately. She listens to Sarek and the other delegates debate about Andorian policies, the talk of peaceful agreement between the many different worlds often seemed like a dwindling dream. The Andorians present argue their half while Sarek responds just a smoothly, it was slowly becoming obvious that the Andorians were going to be stubborn about all of this.

“I wonder,” begins one of the delegates during an intense debate over the Andorian transaction, “what our Terran guest must think of it?” He says, looking at Nyota expectantly. She stares up at him, glances at Sarek who nods infinitesimally in permission and takes a deep breath before responding, “I found the transaction to lack peaceful commencement,” Nyota tells him politely, “I have always felt that peaceful agreement between two countries or two species requires a mutual ground. It is difficult to obtain such ground when the two opposing forces cannot stand in the same room together let alone be on the same planet without an argument ensuing.”

Let it be known…Nyota Uhura was a very blunt woman.

The mixture of shock and amusement written across many of the delegates faces made her nervous, made her wonder if she’d said something wrong. She hears the noise of clinking glasses as people sip their wine, the sound of forks against the beautifully painted porcelain plates on the table and the tittering of some of the delegate’s wives as they remark about Nyota’s comment. The delegate in question who asked her opinion grinned and then laughed; the sound of his laughter harsh against her ears in the otherwise silent dinner room.

“I like you,” he laughs as he points at her, “you’ve definitely got the edge.”

“What would you propose we do then?” the Andorian ambassador cuts in suddenly and everyone in the room falls silent. Nyota doesn’t answer at first, feels Sarek shift beside her and glances at him from the corner of her eye, watches him nod vaguely in permission once more.

“I propose you find common ground Ambassador,” Nyota begins lightly, “How is one to understand another species without first meeting them on the same level? Compromises are an inevitable event…you must compromise in order to co-exist. We are a variety of different species, we come from different cultures with different beliefs…in order to peacefully co-exist with each other we must take that first step into the unknown, like my ancestors had done hundreds of years ago when we made our first journey to the moon…took our first steps across the alien dirt…the first time in my people’s history that we had left our planet to explore others.”

The room is silent as they mull over Nyota’s words, the Andorian in question eyeing her thoughtfully though his cerulean colored cheeks have flushed a deep blue, his antennae’s twitching nervously. After a while he responds, bowing his head politely, “You are wise beyond your years S’tai.”

Holy crap she pulled it off…she did it…she actually did it.

Dinner recommences and they change topics, empty plates being taken away and dessert served shortly afterwards. When dinner was over she follows Sarek out into the ballroom, mingles with the others for a while longer until Sarek declares his intentions of retiring for the night.

               Back inside his private flitter she is exhausted. The robes she wears are heavy and the ballroom had been crowded and humid. People had been bombarding her all night with questions, mostly of them curious as to why she was there with Sarek and who she was in particular.

“You did well,” Sarek says when she dwells just a little too long on her thoughts of the evening.

“I’ve never done that before,” she admits quietly, “I’ve been to delegation dinners before but never as one who was a part of it…I was always just a translator in the background.”

“I must admit your responses about the Andorian transaction weren’t exactly…subtle…however if I thought you’d be subtle I wouldn’t have allowed you to speak your mind as you did. The Andorians require a certain amount of motivation if they are to progress in their peaceful co-existence with others.”

“True…though I was fairly certain that Andorian ambassador was ready to climb over that table and stab me with his fork for a minute there,” Nyota mutters, recalling the strange glint in the Andorian’s eyes though his words were calm and polite.

“He should be thankful that he hadn’t,” Sarek says darkly.

His tone held warning in it, made her think that something a little more violent would have taken place had the Andorian tried such a thing with her. She glances in his direction and notes his stiff posture, the mildly irritated look on his face as he dwells upon the Andorian in question. Quietly she reaches over and pushes the button to raise the privacy window, watches it slide closed before she meets Sarek’s curious gaze, “I’m fine.”

“I can see that,” he says evenly and blinks back at her.

“You’re dwelling on it aren’t you? The Andorian….Sarek I was just being sarcastic…” Nyota sighs softly.

“I have never come to understand the terran need for over exaggeration of a topic,” Sarek frowns at her.

They fall silent for a long while before Nyota asks, “Where are we going?”

“To my home,” he says as if it were obvious, blinking at her with wide dark eyes.

How does he keep doing that?

Kitty eyes…that’s what those are….kitty eyes.

She smirks at him and tries not to make another comment about his presumptuousness. She knows very well that she’d let him take her to bed if he asked, probably let him take her to the couch…the floor…his desk….

“I thought perhaps we could have another game of chess?” He says thoughtfully.

“I’m up for it,” Nyota nods, really not feeling all that sleepy despite her exhaustion.

He is silent for too long and she wonders quietly what he’s thinking, finally he speaks up, “I propose we agree upon a mutual motivational tool to further entice the challenge of our impending chess match.”

“You want to make a bet?” Nyota asks with a half-smile and a quirked eyebrow.

“Affirmative,” he nods in response.

“What are the stakes?” Nyota asks with a tilt of her head.

“If I win you will come with me to New Vulcan and allow me to introduce you to the matriarch of my family,” he all but blurts out and she could have sworn he was nervous.

“And if I win,” Nyota replies evenly, “You’ll let me decide the itinerary for our next date.”

He seems incredibly pleased by the mention of another date.

“Agreed,” he says, watching her with those damned kitty eyes again.

“Agreed,” Nyota echoes as the flitter pulls up in front of his house.

Not that she was going to win this match anyways, but she did wonder as to why he suddenly wanted to take her back to New Vulcan to meet the relatives. Quietly she hoped they didn’t know about what had happened on the Enterprise, though chances are that at least the matriarch would know. She’d question as to how he’d survived the Ponn Farr and he’d obviously have to tell her the truth.

“Sarek,” Nyota asks as they enter the house and walk towards the library, once she was sure that all the servants were out of ear shot she continued, “Does T’pau know about….what happened?”

“Yes,” he says, stiffening slightly, “she does.”

“And what are T’pau’s thoughts on the matter?” Nyota questions as she walks towards the chess set and sits down on one side of the table, Sarek sitting down across from her.

“Kaiidth…” he responds quietly, looks mildly worried that she might just get up and run out of the room.

“So…she’s ok with it then?” Nyota asks curiously.

“She had hoped I would find a Vulcan mate…she was worried about my state of wellbeing when Amanda was killed,” he pauses for a moment, looks as if he’s trying to recover his composure before continuing, “I assured her that I was alright…that bond sickness had not taken me…I was merely…I was discomforted by her loss.”

Nyota feels deep pity for the man before her, knows that he still struggles with Amanda’s loss even now, “Sarek,” she asks quietly after a short pause, “who does T’pau believe me to be?”

“She believes you are my ko-kugalsu,” he responds evenly.

“You told them,” she says as she stiffens in her seat, “that we’re already betrothed?”

“No,” he frowns at her, “I would not take such liberties…it is T’pau’s wish that I complete the bonding…as it is mine…she would not have me mate with a female and then leave her for another.”

Nyota shifts uncomfortably for a moment, relaxes the muscles in her shoulders before beginning the chess game with him. Silently she knows she won’t win this game, knows that even if she did win she’d still have to go to New Vulcan and meet with T’pau. She feels kind of like Sarek was making the bet only to soften the blow, probably thought he’d never get her on that transport to New Vulcan unless he either carried her or won a chess match.

“I’ll be going back to the Enterprise soon,” Nyota says softly as she watches him slide his fingers over her queen, hears him mutter “checkmate.”

He nods, staring down at the board, “I had considered it as well…I feel that we will have to make due with sub-space calls.”

“I agree,” Nyota nods thoughtfully.

“You will take your shore leave on New Vulcan,” he adds after a moment and she nods, understand that though it sounds like a command it is a request. He wants to be able to see her more than just through a computer screen.

They play a few more games until after Nyota’s insistence he brings out his lyre and plays for her. She curls up on the couch beside him and listens, her eyes shifting towards the fireplace. She watches the flames flicker in the hearth and enjoys the warmth of them radiating throughout the room. When he finishes the song he sets his lyre aside and glances at her, content and sleepy as she curls up against his side. He wakes her gently and guides her upstairs to his bed chambers where he helps her out of her robes. She gratefully climbs into his bed and curls up in the blankets; listens to him disrobe and shower before climbing into bed beside her. She vaguely recalls his fingers in her hair as she drifts off to sleep, his warm lips on her shoulder as he murmurs softly in Vulcan. In this moment she feels cherished, she feels like she belongs and though part of her doesn’t entirely believe that just yet, she is content to rest in his arms, his warm body curled against hers as she drifts off to sleep.

               The next few weeks are nights spent playing chess, going to dinner, or staying in and talking for hours about their favorite books and music. They decidedly pick up a pattern, chess being their favorite pass time and Nyota even managing to win a few games once in a while. The first time she beats him at chess he is quiet but she can tell he’s pleased with her. He finally manages to take her to see La Bayadere, her favorite ballet. Their days are filled with work (for him) and sometimes during his break she’d meet him with lunch at the embassy and they’d go and sit in the embassy gardens to eat. Nyota had talked him into going to the beach with her once, even if it wasn’t a typical beach day, they both stayed on the pier where he could look at the water but not have to go near it. He really had no desire to go anywhere near it, even though she was fairly certain he could swim.

               The last night before her departure to the Enterprise they spent indoors, after a quiet dinner and a round of chess she is slumped against his chest upstairs in his room, muttering quietly about how early she’ll have to get up tomorrow to meet the shuttle that will take her back to the Enterprise.

“Gaila is going to meet me at the shuttle bay tomorrow,” she says quietly, thinking out loud, “We’ve got the apartment all situated and besides it’s owned by the federation so we don’t have to worry about the rent.”

“T’riel has your luggage stowed away in the back of the flitter,” Sarek nods quietly.

“Yeah,” Nyota sighs, tracing patterns across his chest with her forefinger.

They are silent for a long while until he speaks; his voice quiet and soothing as fingers slide up and down her back gently as he asks, “Would you bond with me?”

“You know I’m not entirely certain how that works,” Nyota says with a half-smile.

“You would come back with me to New Vulcan and T’pau would perform the ceremony,” he explains easily, “We could have the ceremony during your next shore leave.”

Nyota is quiet for too long, letting her mind drift over the idea when he adds, “We can wait a while longer if you wish….it was merely a question.”

Nyota can feel his disappointment through the fingers of his right hand as they slide down her back, can sense his dismay. Marrying him would have consequences, though they wouldn’t be bad it would be difficult to explain to the federation. It would be difficult for her to carry on with her career if the federation knew she was his wife, they probably wouldn’t allow her to be on the Enterprise anymore for her own safety, would probably give her a teaching position at the academy or give her a job in Starfleet command.

               If she didn’t marry him though, she knew she’d miss him. She found contentment in his arms, has grown used to being with him. She couldn’t imagine being with anyone else anymore and the thought of him marrying another woman provoked a violent surge of anger and jealousy in her. He was hers (even if he really wasn’t just yet) and a big part of her didn’t want to let him go.

“Then don’t,” he murmurs aloud and she realizes he’s been reading her thoughts.

               They don’t talk about it anymore for the rest of the night rather they spend it touching and holding, hot kisses and warm fingers sliding across her body, claiming and caressing. Her lips were biting down gently into the flesh over his collarbone while her hips were rocking against his as she rides him. She whimpers into his shoulder, he was so much bigger like this, filled her differently. His hands were insistent upon her hips, pulling her down onto him over and over again, his hot breath against her ear as he murmurs words of encouragement, words in the old high tongue of the V’tosh. His skin is hot against hers; her body being impaled upon the scorching heat of his lok making her feel achy and restless.

In the morning she wakes alone, knows that he has been out of bed long enough that the sheets were no longer warm from the heat that radiates from his skin. She climbs out of bed and looks for him, realizes he must be downstairs in his study. She checks the time and realizes she’s got only two hours before she has to be at the shuttle bay, quickly jumping into the shower to get ready for the day.

 

               They’ve only been dating a month, Nyota thinks as she steps out of the shower to dry off and get changed. A month and she already knows what her answer will most likely be about bonding with him. She was torn however, between holding onto him and giving him up because she wanted to be his but at the same time she wanted her career as well. When she gathers her things into her duffle bag and heads downstairs, he’s sitting at his desk in the library, staring intently down at a PADD on the desk before him. He glances up when she enters, his eyes shifting to the duffle bag and then up to her face before speaking, “You are leaving.”

“I am,” Nyota nods as she sets the duffle down beside the chair on the other side of the desk, takes a seat in that same chair and meets his gaze before continuing, “I want to bond with you.”

He stills and slowly leans back in his chair, his gaze becoming like flint as he scrutinizes her features and appears to be having an internal debate of his own, “You are certain?”

“I am,” Nyota nods, “However I have a request to make.”

“Negotiations?” Sarek muses, the flint like expression fading to be replaced with amusement.

“Negotiations,” Nyota nods with a half-smile, “I want to continue my career on the Enterprise…” she begins and holds up her hand when he opens his mouth to protest, she knows how he feels about her safety, knows that he wouldn’t like the idea of her being in danger constantly, “My career is important to me as yours is to you. Your next…time….won’t be for another seven years,” she says, watching the expression on his face change and the tips of his ears flush green, “I will bond with you but I wish to remain as your ko-kugalsu until that time comes again. That way in the eyes of the federation I am engaged to you but not married. They will not allow me to continue my career if I am your wife…they will see it as a matter of security for both my own safety and yours.”

“You will bond with me though,” he says as he watches her nod in agreement, his mind mulling over the terms of her negotiations, “I will accept these terms so long as you keep in contact with me…you will not put yourself directly in danger unless it is absolutely necessary and you will obey my son if he should give you a command he feels is necessary for your own safety.”

His son….Spock…how did Spock get pulled into this?

“Spock?” Nyota asks with raised eyebrows, “I don’t think Spock is going to like having to babysit me Sarek.”

“You will be his _dahrik ko-mekh_ ,” he responds evenly, “you will be family and it is his duty to protect you as a member of his family.”

There’s that word again….

“I agree to it but it doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Nyota grouses quietly, “I really don’t think it will be necessary for Spock to be shadowing me.”

“As I cannot talk you into living on New Vulcan with me,” he begins pointedly, “I ask you do this for my own wellbeing as yours.”

Nyota ponders his words, realizes that he would be worried for her safety, so far away from him that he is unable to protect her if necessary. His instincts would be screaming out in protest and the idea of Spock looking out for her would soothe his nerves to some degree. She nods in agreement after a short pause, sighs as she leans back in her seat, “Alright.”

He nods though his expression is blank she could see the pleasure in his eyes, the smug contentment of a Vulcan male who has finally succeeded in securing his mate. “I will contact T’pau and inform her of our arrangement,” he says in a clipped business like tone, clearly not like being caught expressing his feelings whether it was just in his eyes or out loud.

“Alright,” Nyota nods as she stands, “I need to get going.”

“T’riel will take you to the shuttle bay,” Sarek nods as he stands and steps around his desk. She gets the distinct impression that he is up to something suddenly, cannot read his intentions through the strong control of his Vulcan reserve as he stands closer to her, until she can feel the heat of his body against her skin through her uniform. He never shows the slightest hint of affection towards her in public, only when they were alone did he allow himself to touch her, knows that right now they aren’t exactly alone but the library doors are closed. He catches her ponytail in one hand and burrows his hand in the silky strands, pulls her head back as he drops his head to slant his mouth against hers. The kiss is hot and claiming as she muffles a yelp into his mouth, knows that the room is not sound proofed and they would have to be very quiet as to not raise suspicion. His lips slide down to the column of her neck as he inhales deeply, content to smell himself on her skin.  When she feels his fingers pulling the collar of her uniform down, the tight grip threatening to tear the fabric she opens her mouth to protest but whimpers instead and bites down on her lip to smother the cry of pain and pleasure when his teeth sink into her shoulder. 

Vulcans were so damn confusing.

This man, who never so much as portrays a hint of what he is feeling; he was like a marble statue with eyes hard like flint and a sharp mind that could bring civilizations to its knees with his talent for negotiations, was quite possibly the most baffling Vulcan she’s ever met. One minute he’s stoic and reserved and totally emotionless and the next he’s got her by the hair shoving his tongue down her throat. He seems particularly keen on biting her too, seems to love biting her. Thankfully those bite marks are somewhere she can hide them.

               She burrows her face into the crook of his neck, whimpers against his skin as he sinks his teeth deeper, his iron like arms curling around her and pulling her up against him. She doesn’t complain when he does this, knows that it was instinct driving him to mark her. When he releases her she feels his tongue slide over the already darkening bruise on her shoulder, presses kisses to the soft skin there. “I am sorry,” he murmurs quietly against her shoulder, “I must endeavor to control myself around you.”

He stiffens instantly when he feels her teeth on his shoulder.

               Nyota slides her tongue across the skin, feels him shiver beneath her touch and she can’t stop the smile curving her lips. She did not want him to feel guilty about his instincts, did not want him to hide them from her. Sliding her teeth across his skin she closes her eyes, bites down hard and hears him grunt, his body stiffening against her and his arms tightening around her.

“Sarek _T’nash-veh_?” she whispers softly against his skin when she releases his shoulder.

“ _Ha_ ,” he says quietly in response, “ _Du’nash-veh Nyota_.”

Many things happen all at once, far too quickly for her to recount. One minute she is standing in his arms and the next she is all but dumped back into her chair and he’s half-way across the room retrieving a book from one of the many shelves in the library. T’riel is opening the door to the library and shifts his gaze between them, quirks an eyebrow as he glances at Nyota, “It is time S’tai.”

**Enterprise**

               The Enterprise is in chaos just hours before departure. People are unpacking their things, finding their quarters while the rest of the crew is preparing the ship for departure. Nyota has practically made the turbolift her new quarters, finds that she is constantly in one of them going from level to level and checking through the communications staff under her department to ensure they’re all ready to go and everyone is accounted for. When the ship finally departs from space dock she is seated at her station on the bridge, confirming with Starfleet command that they are cleared to leave.

“Lieutenant,” she hears Spock say from her right and she glances at him, an eyebrow quirked, “I request confirmation that you understand the particulars of the agreement?”

Nyota knows exactly what he is talking about and rolls her eyes, nodding as she turns to look at the panel before her again, “Yes Commander I do.”

“Excellent,” he nods and turns back to his work.

“Commander,” Nyota says calmly after a long pause.

“Yes Lieutenant?”

Nyota pauses, turns in her seat to look at him and then shakes her head, “Never mind….I’ll talk to you later about it.”

He tilts his head to one side, opens his mouth to respond and then closes it before turning back to the view screen before him.  When their shift ends they leave for the mess hall together, Nyota walking beside him quietly.

“Did you wish to speak to me privately?” he asks suddenly and Nyota nods.

“Come with me,” he motions as he turns towards the observation deck.

She follows him over to one of the large windows that allots them an amazing view of the starry darkness of space, Nyota licking her lips before speaking, “I hope…please don’t hate me Spock…” Nyota sighs heavily, “It was something I’ve been worried about…something your father insists you will accept regardless but…I’ve loved you since the day I met you…I couldn’t stand for you to hate me.”

“Nyota,” Spock says quietly and she loves the way his voice carries the softest hint of compassion in it when he speaks, “Know that I will never hate you…though I am discomforted by the idea of my father marrying you…I would only wish the both of you to be happy.”

“I missed you,” Nyota admits quietly, “I missed you so much…you were my best friend Spock…I understood you better than I ever understood other humans.”

“I missed you as well Nyota,” he admits gently and she sighs, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her head against his chest. Timidly he embraces her as well, though she can tell he is hesitant about being so close to her. He clears his throat nervously before speaking, “Nyota,” he tells her softly, “I am aware of the human need for affection but I must advise you against this form of affection…my father will not take kindly to the scent of another male upon that which belongs to him. Perhaps when you are bonded he will not take such offenses because he will be able to see in your mind that it is perfectly innocent but until then I suggest you refrain from touching me.”

“Oh,” Nyota blinks and immediately lets him go, feels a faint flush coloring her cheeks, “I didn’t even think of that.”

“Yes,” Spock says quietly, his fingers curving around hers, “Human customs are different from Vulcan ones…especially those of a marital nature.”

“I see,” Nyota says with a nod as she glances down at their entwined fingers, realizes he must still need this connection to understand her emotions, “Sorry.”

“Apologies are unnecessary,” he tells her promptly, “You were ignorant of our customs.”

They turn and stand together, gazing out at the stars before she asks, “How is everything going with Jim?”

He stiffens fractionally before relaxing, his voice calm and reserved though she can tell he’s hesitant about talking of it, “All is well…like you and I, we both had our differences and sought to resolve them before a proper relationship could be established.”

“Does your father know?” she asks suddenly and blinks up at him.

“No,” he says and pauses as if something were just clicking into place as he glances down at her, mild concern in his eyes, “I haven’t told him yet.”

“He’ll know the moment were bonded,” Nyota responds and Spock nods, turning to gaze back out at the stars. She watches him ponder over it before she adds, “Spock you have to tell him eventually…it would be better if you told him rather then I.”

“I agree,” he says with a nod, “however my father is as your people say…old fashioned.”

“You love who you love Spock,” Nyota shrugs, “You can’t help that.”

“My father will not understand,” he presses on, a frown curving his lips.

His lips…

Blinking up at him she realizes for the first time that she has not thought of him for the last month or so as anything other than a friend. Where she once used to think his lips are perfect, something totally kissable she no longer dwells on such things. When she thinks of kissing she thinks of the way Sarek presses opened mouth kisses against her shoulder while they lay in bed, Nyota warm and content against him and drifting off to sleep. He wasn’t the most affectionate man, but he ensured her of his devotion to her in the way he would hold her, the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t looking, the way his hands and his mouth and his body would tell her over and over again that she was his.

Quietly she realizes that they are still touching and she feels him stiffen beside her, realizes he must have seen her thoughts and felt her emotions.

 “You have never felt such emotions towards me,” he admits quietly, almost sounds jealous.

“I have too,” she frowns up at him, “I’ve just never…Sarek makes me feel…” she trails off softly, frowns as she gazes out towards the stars.

“You feel the passion we had long ago…before I met Jim…before you met my father.”

“I’m afraid,” she admits quietly, “that I’ll lose him too.”

“You’ve never lost me,” Spock frowns down at her, “I will always be your friend.”

Nyota pulls her hand from his and crosses her arms over her chest, blinking away the burning edge of tears as they threaten to blur her vision, “Your father is old fashioned,” she says softly, “but he cares about you deeply…I would know, I’ve seen it in his mind…and though he might be displeased at first with your choice of mate, he will see how Jim makes you happy and he’ll get over it.”

Spock nods, watches her keep her distance from him and finds a mild irritation in it. He misses the way they once were but knows they cannot go back to that now. He knows that she will soon belong to his father, that though she will always be his friend she will be nothing more than that with him. He slides his fingers over her shoulder because he misses the connection and she narrows her eyes at him, pulls her shoulder away from his touch, “Spock…I belong to your father…and you belong to Jim…I don’t share Spock…I could never share you with Jim and you know that…it is…kind of like how your people are territorial over what belongs to them…I couldn’t share you…and honestly,” she sighs softly, “I think that I…I might be falling in love with your father…he’s good to me…and he’s just…” Nyota sighs, “he’s really a good man…he makes me happy.”

Spock opens his mouth to respond but a voice cuts in from behind them, “So…am I interrupting something here?”

Nyota glances back at Kirk and shakes her head, “No.”

She turns on heel and storms out of the room past Kirk who watches her go with a bewildered look on her face. He glances towards Spock and sighs as he shakes his head, “You’ve two have only been back on this ship for a _day_.”

 

               The mess hall is crowded and noisy as Nyota fixes herself a plate of food and sits at a nearby table, Gaila waving her over with her red curls swishing around her face. “Hey,” she greets her friend brightly, “I haven’t seen you since you took off.”

“Yeah,” Nyota smiles back at her, “sorry…I’ve just been so busy I didn’t get a chance to check in with you since we boarded this morning.” She sits down across from Gaila and starts to eat, stops when she notices Gaila scrutinizing her intensely, “What?”

“The Vulcan pissed you off again didn’t he?” she says flatly, her eyes narrowing, “I can tell…you’ve got that look on your face again.”

“I don’t have a look,” Nyota says with a frown as she prods her mash potatoes with a plastic fork.

“What did he do this time?” Gaila scowls at her.

“He might have suggested telepathically…rather perhaps thinking about it more than vocalizing said thought…that he wants me back…but he wants Kirk too…he wants us both,” Nyota explains without meeting Gaila’s gaze.

“Oh ho ho…” Gaila says, shaking her head as her scowl deepens, “He’s got _balls_ to ask that of you.”

“Gaila,” Nyota sighs, “First of all…the Vulcan you’re talking about is named Spock…secondly…we still love each other…it’s going to be weird like this for a while…we want each other to be happy and I want my best friend back.”

“I thought I was your best friend?” Gaila says with a tilt of her head.

“My _other_ best friend back,” Nyota says as she rolls her eyes, “I just want things to be normal again…I miss him.”

“Hello ladies,” Kirk says as he drops down in the seat beside Nyota, “How’s dinner going?”

“Good,” Nyota says with a nod, “Is Spock alright?”

“Yeah,” Kirk nods, “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“I’m all ears,” Gaila smirks at Kirk.

“I meant…alone,” Kirk says as he meets Gaila’s gaze expectantly.

“Oh fine,” Gaila rolls her eyes, “I’m going to go get desert…Nyota you want anything?”

“Sure,” Nyota nods, “Chocolate pudding if they’ve got it.”

“Ok,” Gaila smiles brightly and turns to leave as Kirk raises a hand, calling after her as she goes, “I’ll have one of those too…” he trails off, frowns as she ignores him and keeps walking.

“You’re not on duty,” Nyota smirks at him; “she won’t listen to you.”

“Yeah I got that,” Kirk rolls his eyes as he starts eating his dinner, “So why is Spock suddenly so sullen?”

“We had issues,” Nyota sighs as she rubs her face tiredly, “Jim…you know we still love each other…and I have no intention of ever trying to come between you two…it’s just that it’s hard to let each other go…I want my best friend back and it’s going to take a while for us to get back down to that level of friendship.”

“I don’t see why you can’t just be with both of us,” Kirk shrugs, “I have no qualms with it.”

“I don’t share,” Nyota says sourly, rolling her eyes, “I wouldn’t be able to.”

“Still,” Kirk wiggles his eyebrows at her, “It would be fun.”

“It might be at first…but it would probably drive us all crazy…I’m just as territorial as Spock is…I’d go nuts eventually,” Nyota explains easily.

“So…this is the whole reason why he’s so sullen right now?” Kirk sighs and takes a sip of his juice, “I mean…I can understand why he’s upset…it makes sense and I totally respect that, but sometimes…it hurts…you know? I see him watching you and it hurts…because I know he loves you too. I wish we could just resolve this already.”

“It’s going to take a while Jim,” Nyota sighs, “Just give him time.”

“So on a serious note,” Kirk says as he quickly changes the subject, “I was told you were going to be future mother-in-law.”

“Jim if you call me _dahrik ko-mekh_ …I will just…freak out…I will _freak out_.”

“You’re marrying his father,” Kirk says with a quirked eyebrow, “what did you expect him to call you?”

“He doesn’t have to call me that…he can call me Nyota…I don’t mind,” Nyota says with a thoughtful look on her face.

“He’ll feel he’s being disrespectful if he doesn’t address you properly,” Kirk counters easily.

“He’ll get over it,” Nyota says drily.

“I don’t know, he seems pretty adamant,” Kirk smirks at her and she can tell he’s teasing her now.

“Oh stop it,” Nyota laughs faintly, he laughs along with her until they both fall silent. He speaks again but it is quiet and serious this time, “Your safety will be paramount aboard this vessel,” he tells her pointedly, “I know you probably already figured this part out…but the minute Starfleet command gets word of you marrying the Vulcan ambassador they’ll want to put you somewhere safe.”

“I know,” Nyota says with a nod, “We aren’t getting married for another seven years…we’ll bond during my next shore leave, which I’ll be taking on New Vulcan by the way. We’ll complete the marriage during his next…you know.”

Kirk nods thoughtfully, “That way you can continue on with your career…get a few things done before you resign your commission.”

Nyota nods, “Yep…I was kind of hoping he’d let me teach at the academy after we’re married…though he’ll probably want me on New Vulcan.”

“Sounds like you two have this all mapped out,” Kirk says with raised eyebrows.

“We talk about it before I left,” Nyota agrees quietly as she finishes her dinner, “I need to go…I’m expecting a sub-space call from him in like thirty minutes.”

“Alright,” Kirk says as he watches her get up and leave, “See you later.”

“Bye!” Nyota waves as she drops off her tray and leaves the mess hall, rushing past Spock who wears an expression of curiosity as he watches her hurry out of the mess hall past him. He glances up at Kirk and quirks an eyebrow, walking across the room to sit across from him.

“The lieutenant appears to be in a hurry,” Spock points out, tries to read Kirk’s face for any clues as to why Nyota was in such a hurry.

“She’s expecting a call from your Dad,” Kirk responds easily and smiles at him, watches the uncomfortable expression shifting across Spock’s face as he connects the dots and realizes what was going on.

“Hey,” Kirk says and frowns as he sees the way Spock suddenly looks irritated and dismayed, “It will be alright you know? Nyota really likes your Dad…and she seems really happy with him…give her a chance to be happy Spock…give your Dad a chance to be happy too. I know you love her…I know it bothers you that she’s rushing off to meet a sub-space call with someone when that someone used to be you…yes I know about that…she told me about it once…you used to call her while you were away on those science missions of yours. So it’s going to be hard but I will be right here if you need me,” Kirk says, sliding his hand over Spocks with a half-smile, “We’ll be alright.”

 

               Meanwhile half way across the ship Nyota is scrambling to shower and change clothes before the call comes through. She is still wrapped in a towel and sprinting across the room when the call is automatically picked up, Nyota stumbling over a stray shoe and toppling over to the floor behind her couch with a surprised look on her face. She hears Sarek’s voice and blinks, peering up over the back of couch; he is watching her with the typical Vulcan reserve though his eyes are full of amusement.

“Hey,” Nyota says softly as she smiles at him, “give me a minute…I’m just finishing getting dressed,” she tells him, pulls the towel tighter around her body as she hurries back into the bathroom.  What she has failed to realize however is the fact that he can still see her as he speaks, asks her about how everything has gone so far. What she doesn’t realize is that he’s watching her dry off, watches her bend over with her perfectly rounded backside sticking up in the air as she bends over to grab a spare tube of toothpaste out of the bathroom cabinet below the sink. She does not see him shift uncomfortably because her back is too him as they talk, doesn’t see the way his eyes have darkened considerably. When she does turn around he’s all business again and she tilts her head to one side, taking in the carefully neutral expression on his face. She is pulling her pajama top on over her bra as she sits down on the bed across from the view screen, notes that the background behind him is not in his library.

“Where are you anyways?” Nyota asks curiously.

“I have returned to New Vulcan,” He explains easily, “I am within my new domicile.”

She can’t help the sorrow that wells up in her at his words, can’t possibly fathom the idea of losing her whole planet and everyone she knew there, her family home with all of its history, her belongings, everything that she knew and loved…everything.

He doesn’t even have any of his family heirlooms anymore…has nothing.

“How is everyone?” Nyota inquires as she brushes out her hair, watching him as he replies.

“All is well,” he says with a nod of his head, “though there have been some discrepancies with the food supplies sent to our planet through the federation. The issue will be resolved soon though I imagine.”

Nyota nods thoughtfully as she lifts her PADD up from where she’d tossed it on the bed earlier and flips through a couple of notes left by some of her staff as she speaks, her eyes still on the screen, “I’ve informed Captain Kirk of my desire to go to New Vulcan for my shore leave.”

“The Captain is aware of the situation then I take it?” Sarek questions, quirks an eyebrow in a way that reminds her oddly of Spock.

“Yes,” Nyota nods, “He knows.”

“And is he amenable to it?” Sarek presses, watching her intently. She knows that she can’t hide anything from Sarek even without a bond link.

“Yes he is amenable,” Nyota agrees, thinks of Spock during the conversation and wonders how he planned on telling his father about his relationship with the Captain.

They talk for another half hour before Sarek has to finish his paperwork and Nyota needs to get some sleep. It will be six months before she sees him in person again, six months she’ll have to spend talking to him through sub-space calls. She’d gotten used to the pattern of sleeping in his bed, waking with him in the morning…playing chess with him…going out to dinner with him…

She missed him.

She slump forlornly into her bed, curls up under the blankets and closes her eyes, dreams of his warm touch against her skin and finds a mild sense of comfort in it. The follows weeks pass slowly, she speaks to him a couple of times a week over sub-space calls when he has time, spends the rest of her time either on duty or in the gym trying to avoid awkward conversations with Spock who doesn’t actually try to talk to her but rather watches her intently until she is either forced to glare at him or leave the room. She wants to talk to him, but she also wants to give him some space, give him a chance to get used to the idea of her marrying his father. Her plans are rudely interrupted however one night when she is in her quarters, retiring early from her shift because she had suddenly developed a bought of nausea that persisted all day long. She is buried under the covers of her bed with a cold wash cloth over her forehead when she hears the alert buzzer of her door.

“ _No_ …” she moans quietly, “I’m not feeling well…come back later.”

“Nyota,” she hears Spock say quietly, “please let me in.”

“ _Oh no_ …not _you_ ,” she whines and groans, burying under a pillow.

He is quiet for too long and she suddenly feels very guilty, “Oh come on in Spock.”

She hears the doors swing open and his footfalls across the carpet of her quarters until he’s sitting on the edge of her bed, pulls the pillow away from her face to examine her, “You are ill.”

“Yes Captain obvious, I am…” she says saucily and winces at her own sharp sarcasm.

She feels his hot hand press against her forehead and pulls away from his touch, bates it away tiredly, “Too hot.”

“Just a moment,” he says and takes the wash cloth from her, rinses it in cool water before returning to her side and pressing it against her forehead, “You do not appear to have a fever.”

“I’m so _nauseous_ ,” Nyota whimpers quietly, “I don’t know why I feel so sick.”

Spock stills at her words, the wheels turning in his head as he quietly counts, “Nyota…are you still receiving the monthly shot you began taking when I began courting you?”

“Yes,” she answers gently, turns over to look at him, “I’m still taking it.”

“They are not one hundred percent accurate,” he tells her quietly, “there is still a chance of--…”

Nyota cuts him off, holds her hand up to stop him, “I’m _not_ pregnant Spock.”

“Nyota,” he begins patiently, “You have….coupled…with my father on many occasions,” he says and quickly adds at the outraged look on her face, “I can see his mark clearly upon your skin…it is one no Vulcan could fail to see, that and the scent of him is all over you.”

“I’m not pregnant,” she reiterates flatly.

“Though it is not an ideal moment for such an event,” he says as he swallows thickly, the beginning of something like panic etched across his face, “It is a likely occurrence. Vulcan males are much more…viable…then human males.”

Crap….what if she is pregnant?

The memory of the times she has spent in Sarek’s bed come rushing back, the numerous occasions his instincts had driven him to mark his territory.  Panic washes over her and she sits up sharply, a frown curving her lips, “I can’t be pregnant…I can’t be…” she says softly, “Spock…your mother needed help getting pregnant…it’s only logical that I would need the same help for your father to get me pregnant.”

“Indeed,” Spock nods, “however…it has always been questioned that perhaps it was an isolated incident…it could be that a human can carry a Vulcan fetus naturally, albeit with some help of course.”

“No,” Nyota shakes her head firmly, “I’m not pregnant…I’m not….lets go check with McCoy…he’ll sort this out right now.”

               The medical bay is quiet when they enter, McCoy glancing up as his gaze shifts between Spock and Nyota, “What’s up?”

“I need a pregnancy test,” Nyota says quietly.

McCoy’s gaze darts towards Spock and then towards Nyota, “Define pregnancy test.”

“I need one for Vulcan physiology combined with a human,” Nyota mutters under her breath.

Let the awkward silence ensue!

They are silent for what seems like eons, McCoy scrutinizing them both before he sighs and shakes his head, “I don’t have a test like that…I mean I can do it the standard way but I can’t guarantee it will be accurate.”

“Just do something,” Nyota hisses with a flush coloring her cheeks, follows McCoy into a room with Spock right behind her.

“Ok,” McCoy says as he pulls out a small device Nyota recognized as his tricorder, “First of all…I know what happened with the ambassador so now I have to ask…is it his….or….yours?” McCoy says, motioning towards Spock.

“It would be my father’s Doctor,” Spock answers before Nyota can.

“Ah,” McCoy says with raised eyebrows, “Ok…well…seven months later…you’d know if you were pregnant…I’m not seeing the logic behind getting a test…you’ve probably got the stomach flu or something.”

“She has been…intimate…with my father’s person recently,” Spock cuts in again and Nyota has the urge to slap him for telling McCoy such personal details about her sex life.

“Oh,” McCoy blinks at Nyota looking slightly bewildered, “Um…well…let’s give it a try then,” he says as he motions for Nyota to lay back. “It might take a while…you’ll have to give it a couple of hours to finish processing the data…my tricorder will look for increases in hormones and other anomalies which will indicate pregnancy.”

Nyota watches him scan her body, frown as he pours over the read-outs and then smiles at them both, “Ok…well I need to get these readings over to the lab…I’ll get back with you two in a couple of hours.”

They leave the medical bay, walking quietly side by side. Spock’s face is completely neutral but she can tell he’s panicking on the inside while she walks along beside him, reflecting his emotions outwardly on her face.

Deer in the headlights…

How was she supposed to raise a Vulcan child? She had no idea how to raise a Vulcan child…she had Spock…and Sarek of course, he’d been a father before and he’d know what to do…but she was a Starfleet officer at the beginning of her career and she seriously doubted Sarek would let her stay on board the Enterprise during the duration of her pregnancy, nor would he allow her to care for the child while living on the Enterprise.

She wouldn’t ask that of him either.

It wouldn’t be right to keep the child with her on the Enterprise until they were married, that wouldn’t be fair to him or the child. It was already hard enough to wrap her mind around Spock trying to call her _dahrik ko-mekh_ , but to have her own child call her _ko-mekh_ was just way too much for her to handle. Part of her (the girly side that is) the part of her that when she was younger had dreamed of a husband and children and a home for herself made a giddy little cry of joy at the prospect, to know that she wouldn’t spend her whole life devoted solely to her career. She would have a husband and a child one day, just a little bit sooner then she’d planned.

“If you are with child we will have to divert to New Vulcan immediately,” Spock tells her firmly, “I will not allow you to risk the child’s health while on board the Enterprise. It would be best for you both if you went to New Vulcan and married my father as soon as possible. That you may be with child before your bonding to my father would be looked down upon.”

Nyota nods, can’t find a reason to argue his logic. His family would be shamed if it was discovered that she was with child before she married Sarek. Granted they had a totally logical explanation for it, which would lead them all to the next question as to why Sarek hadn’t bonded with her during his Ponn Farr.

Either way they were screwed.

“Only T’pau would know,” Spock says quietly as if reading her mind, notes the expression on her face as they walk, “She would see the link in your mind between you and the child…she would know who the child’s father is instantly…she would keep it quiet due to the circumstances of the child’s conception.”

“You don’t think she’ll report it to the high council?” Nyota says quietly, worry etched across her features. She did not want Sarek to be shamed, she did not want his family to be disgraced or embarrassed because of her. She doesn’t notice Spock twisting his fingers into hers, feels the touch of his lips to her hand as he replies, “You worry needlessly,” he says gently, “you are aware that it requires more than one person to create life…and therefore it would not solely be your fault if it were discovered.”

“I don’t want something bad to happen to Sarek…I don’t want him to lose his job,” she says in a quiet panic, the blood rushing in her ears as her heart hammers in her chest.

“Breathe _ashayam_ ,” she hears him whisper, pulls her against him as the panic floods her body and makes her tremble. Nyota closes her eyes and tries to calm herself, tries to push down the panic. She listens to Spock’s calm and steady breath, tries to match it with hers. After a while she raises her head to look up at him, watches him watch her with his dark eyes, “You know I can’t be your _ashayam_ ,” she tells him softly, “I belong to your father.”

“I would not impede on such a thing either,” he answers truthfully, “I would not wish to anger my father…but you will always be my _ashayam_ , whether we are lovers or friends.”

“I miss my best friend,” she murmurs quietly against his chest.

“I have missed you as well,” he admits quietly, dropping his chin against the top of her head, “My father however…will be displeased with the amount of human affection we have commenced in.”

“Yeah,” Nyota nods quietly, “I think he probably won’t like you hugging me this much.”

“I would ask you to go and rest until the results are ready, if you are pregnant the fetus will be very fragile…we will have to see a Vulcan healer as soon as you are on New Vulcan and retrieve the appropriate vitamin supplements to support the baby’s health.”

Hours later, after she’d been hounded by Spock to stay in bed, had been forced to eat foul tasting fruits supposedly good for a Vulcan fetus’s development and endured his insistent prodding that she take prenatal vitamins just in case she really is pregnant, he wanted to ensure his future sibling was healthy. Once they were back in the medical bay, Nyota irritated with Spock’s overbearing need to carry her everywhere (which she refused to allow him to do) she is sitting on a medical bed watching McCoy review the results of the pregnancy test.

“As far as I can tell,” McCoy says as he shifts his gaze between the nervous Vulcan and the irritated human, “You’re not pregnant…I see no increase in hormones…I see no indication that you are pregnant of any kind…what I do see however is that you’ve got the stomach flu….which you would have had a vaccine for had you shown up on time for you physical before departure four weeks ago.”

Opps….

Spock stills beside her before he turns his angry gaze upon her, “Nyota you informed me that you completed your physical before departure.”

“I did…” Nyota says sheepishly, “I just didn’t have time for the vaccine shots…I needed to get the staff under my department ready…everybody was in chaos that day Spock.”

“Nyota,” he begins quietly as if he is trying to soothe the anger simmering just under the surface of his calm reserve, “You will in the future be on time for all medical exams, you will receive the vaccine shots regardless of your tardiness,” he says as he turns to look at McCoy, “and Doctor I ask you to inform me immediately if she fails to complete any part of the required medical examinations.”

“Will do,” McCoy nods and tries to avoid the outraged look that Nyota turns on him, “I have other patients to tend to…” he says as he waves to them both and leaves the room.

“Damnit Spock,” she hisses angrily, “I can take care of myself.”

“It is my duty,” he hisses back and surprises her with his sudden dark anger, “to see your health and wellbeing. Your health is connected to my father’s….if you get sick…if something happens to you…he will feel it and he will be distracted in his duties. He will be unable to do his job because his bondmate is ill and he will feel the instinctual need to find you and take you to a healer.”

Nyota bows her head sheepishly, unable to meet his gaze as she considers his words, “You right,” she says quietly, “I was being stupid.”

“Yes,” he agrees darkly, “you were.”

“But I’m not _pregnant_ ,” she points out shortly after; “We don’t have to worry about rushing back to New Vulcan now.”

“Indeed,” Spock nods with a frown still curving his lips, “However it will be _your_ duty to inform my father of the events of today.”

Great….two lectures in one day.

“Spock,” Nyota sighs as he turns on heel to depart from the medical bay, Nyota following him meekly, “I didn’t realize how dangerous it could be…and besides I’m not bonded to him yet.”

“Regardless,” he snaps angrily, pulls her into an empty corridor, “My father cares for you…if you were to become ill he would be distracted.”

“I’m sure your father could handle it,” she snaps back with a frown of her own.

“Despite what you see on the outside Nyota,” he says quietly, “On the inside you know as well as I do that we do feel….concern….it proves difficult to control when someone we feel an illogical emotional attachment too is ill or unwell.”

He seems immensely uncomfortable talking about this.

“Spock,” Nyota sighs once more, touches his cheek gently, “I’m sorry…I’ll go talk to your father right now ok?”

His hard stare scans her face for a few moments before he nods vaguely, apparently satisfied by her response, “Good.”

The conversation later that evening with Sarek was different, and by different it was not in any way as simple as the one she had with Spock (if you could call that simple.)

If Sarek had gone any stiffer she was certain the man would have fallen out of his chair in shock. His expression was neutral but she wondered quietly if he was aware of the shock in his eyes or the fact that there was a faintly noticeable twitch in his right eye.

“Sarek,” Nyota says gently, “say something.”

“You believed you were with child,” he repeats softly.

“Yes,” Nyota nods, “But I’m not…McCoy tested me…I just had the stomach flu.”

“Spock is aware of this?” he asks quietly, though his voice portrayed calm there was a sudden burning in his eyes that told her he was angry.

 _Very_ angry.

“Yes…” Nyota frowns, watches him shift in his chair uncomfortably before responding.

“Nyota,” he says coolly, “If you are with child I should have been the first person you told…not the last.”

“I wasn’t even certain I was pregnant yet Sarek,” Nyota says softly, “I wanted to be certain before I told you…why cause you undue stress? Your job is stressful enough without having to worry about whether or not I might be pregnant.”

He is silent, irritation glittering in his eyes as he stares at her and she sighs, running her hands through her hair waiting for him to respond. She can tell he is trying to control his anger, can tell he is fighting the urge to demand she come to New Vulcan that instant and stay with him there. He takes a deep breath and exhales before responding, tilting his head to one side as he meets her gaze, “Nyota…I ask you to inform me first of such an event should it occur again. I do not like being the last to know, you are mine...it is my duty to see to your wellbeing.”

“Yes Sarek,” she nods, watches him visibly relax in his chair as he regards her quietly, “Your shore leave isn’t for another five months.”

“I know,” Nyota grouses, “But were on our way to the alpha quadrant tomorrow,” she begins, her eyes brightening as she tells him about the plans for tomorrow. It was clear that she loved travelling the stars, loved working on a starship. She told him about her situation with Spock too, explained that they’d finally worked things out and was no longer at odds with each other.

“You may have,” Sarek mutters, “My _safu_ still spurns me…we have never gotten along entirely.”

“You seem to be speaking to each other though,” Nyota frowns at him.

“He tried to speak to me the other night,” he says quietly, “he seems very…agitated…do you know what is upsetting him?”

“Um…” Nyota trails off, knows exactly what Spock was trying to tell Sarek and shifts her gaze away from the screen, “He should be the one to tell you.”

“Nyota,” Sarek says firmly, the command in his voice present as she shifts her gaze back to him, he was giving her the full blast of his commanding expression, the ‘look at me I’m Vulcan and I’m very stern’ look that made her wince ever so slightly, “I can’t tell you Sarek…I told Spock he should be the one to tell you.”

“You know what is bothering him then?” He frowns at her.

“Yes,” Nyota says gently.

“Is he ill?” Sarek says and she can hear the worry in his tone.

“No,” she responds evenly, “he’s just…he’s met someone.”

“He has found a bondmate?” Sarek says incredulously, “That’s all he wanted to tell me? Why could he not simply just say so?”

“Well,” Nyota fidgets nervously, watches Sarek scrutinizing gaze intensify as if he were trying to read her thoughts through the view screen.

“Nyota I know that you know what’s going on,” he says quietly, “I ask that you tell me.”

“I can’t Sarek,” she sighs heavily, “I told Spock--…”

“That he must inform me of his current marital status,” Sarek finishes for her, his eyes narrowing in frustration, “but he is hesitant to do so. I am forced to ask my _ko-kugalsu_ who is more aware of his current situation then I.”

“You are so _stubborn_ ,” she grouses loudly, jumping to her feet as she paces her bedroom, “You need to be more patient.”

“I am Vulcan,” he sniffs indignantly; “we are a patient species.”

“Clearly,” Nyota says drily.

“Nyota,” she hears Spock’s voice suddenly but the doorway and opens her mouth to stop him from entering but fails to do so in time. Spock has his head bent over a PADD he is carrying, speaking to her as he walks, “I came to check on you…” he trails off, notices his father staring at him from the view screen, “ _sa-mekh_ …” he bows his head politely.

“Oh here we go…” Nyota mutters as she shifts her gaze between the two Vulcans.

“I was just inquiring after you,” Sarek begins as he fixes his stern looking ambassadorial ‘I mean business’ gaze on his son, “she informs me that you have found a bondmate.”

“Sarek!” Nyota hisses at him, a scowl on her lips, “I told you to let him tell you first.”

“ _Kaiidth ko-kugalsu_ ,” he tells her fixedly and then shifts his gaze back to his son, “I ask that you explain.”

“ _Sa-mekh_ ,” Spock begins as he looks at Nyota, who gives him an apologetic look and mouths ‘he doesn’t know its Kirk’ to him while her back is turned to Sarek. “I have not obtained a bondmate as of yet…however I am courting someone…Captain Kirk.”

Sarek has gone very quiet, and she is afraid to look back at him. Spock looks like he’s starting to flounder and so she turns to look at the other Vulcan on the view screen, plasters the best peace-keeping look she can muster and says softly, “He feels an illogical emotional attachment to Jim, Sarek…one cannot help who they…care for…as you would say… _kaiidth_.”

She hears him chuff and glare at her before the glare fades and the calm Vulcan reserve settles like a mask over his face, “ _kaiidth_ ,” he agrees, shifting his gaze between Nyota and Spock.

Spock looks visibly relieved and Nyota lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She slumps back against her bed as Sarek adds, “ _Safu_ …leave us…I wish to speak with Nyota alone.”

“Yes _sa-mekh_ ,” he says and bows his head politely, turns to leave.

When they are alone she can feel Sarek’s hot gaze on her skin even through the view screen, “You should have told me,” He says accusingly, “Had I realized my son was hesitant to inform me of his attachment…”

“He was afraid to tell you…he knows that courting another man might offend your more…old fashioned…perspective…Sarek you know as well as I do that you uphold Vulcan tradition with an iron fist…to go outside the norm would leave you mortified.”

“I am open to change,” he frowns at her, “I am not particularly pleased with my _safu’s_ choice…but I will accept it.”

Nyota quirks an eyebrow at him and he chuffs again, dislikes that she has learned to read him so well, “eventually,” he adds a little quieter afterwards.

“Besides _sa-kugalsu_ ,” she says as she stands up from the bed, watching him with a mischievous glint in her eye, “You went outside the norm with me did you not?”

“I…well…” he stammers, watches her fingers trail along the skin of her bare shoulder and then slide down her sides, curving over her waist and hips. She cups her buttocks, watches his mouth drop open ever so slightly before he firmly snaps it closed and blinks at her before shaking his head, “You must cease your attempts at inducement,” he frowns at her.

“You don’t like that?” Nyota asks with raised eyebrows.

“It would be unwise for you to continue such… _behavior_ …as I would be forced to retrieve you sooner than expected,” he says sternly though she thinks he’s got other ideas in mind rather than lecturing her.

“I see,” Nyota nods as she sits back down on the bed.

“You should have told me,” he says as he changes subjects quickly, “of my _safu’s_ attachment…it would have been better to know now rather than be caught off guard later.”

“I didn’t want to interfere,” Nyota nods thoughtfully, “but I suppose you’re right.”

They talk for another twenty minutes before Nyota decides she needs to get to sleep and he has to get to a meeting. She can’t sleep at all that night however, realizes it will be five months before she can touch him again, five months before he can touch her. He was not the adventurous type, not like Spock was. Spock did adventurous things in places where they wouldn’t be caught, but Sarek wouldn’t try anything adventurous even in the privacy of her own bedroom. It would prove pointless anyways even if she did try, he couldn’t touch her and masturbation wasn’t nearly as satisfying. By the end of the third month she was becoming frustrated, to the point that even Spock began to notice.

“You seem highly agitated as of late Nyota,” he tells her as they walk towards the mess hall for breakfast.

“I’m fine,” she scowls and knows that she is scowling, knows that the expression on her face tells him that she is anything but fine right now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything or make any money from any of it, all of it belongs to those who created Star Trek.
> 
> Last chapter, thanks to those who gave kudos and left comments I really appreciated and am glad you liked it!

Later that evening after a week of being unable to talk to Sarek because they were out of range, she dreams of him.

_They are on New Vulcan and the hot sun is beating down on their skin, his body covering hers as he presses her down into the scorching sand.  The blood fever is upon him, his body driving into hers, making her whimper and cry into the dirt beneath her as he pounds his body into her soft flesh. She hears him growl her name, feels his teeth clamp down on the back of her neck as his left arm hooks around her waist and holds her in place, the sand digging into her knees and hands as she props herself up on all fours. Part of her worries for him, though she means no insult to his ego she worries that the blood fever could injure him. His body feels strong though, hard against her back as his hips power into hers, make her wince with the force that he uses. Perhaps when they got older they became more durable? She doubted that however, she recalled on several occasions when she could sense his weariness and rather than allow him to touch her she let him hold her instead._

_She yelps when he digs his teeth in harder, knows that he probably heard those thoughts and felt him bristle indignantly against them. She truly meant no insult though; she worried for him was all. He soothes her worries as he twists his fingers over hers, shows her the ardor of his desire for her, he was still in the prime of his age. She knew this was a touchy subject for him and tried not to bring it up, tried to smother her concern for him before he was offended by it._

_He pulls his body from hers and she whines in protest, gasps when she feels his fingers sliding over her buttocks, slick with their combined juices as he shifts her position and pushes her upper body down into the sand so that her backside was propped up in the air, spreads her legs farther apart for his exploration. She knew exactly where he was going with this, took a deep breath as he sinks a finger into her, and then two, pumping them in and out of her slowly. She gasps at the intrusion, her hips jerking back against his fingers of their own volition. It burns but the pain is mixed with pleasure as he replaces his fingers with his lok, her keening cries ringing out across the desert as he slowly fills her, Nyota gritting her teeth and whimpering. When he is fully seated within her he pulls back and pushes into her again slowly, Nyota panting heavily as he picks up a gentle rhythm that slowly becomes harder as she grows comfortable with it. The hot sand was course against her sensitive breasts, sliding roughly over her skin as her body jerks against the sand with each thrust of his hips against her body._

_“Yes,” he hisses aloud, his voice harsh and alien against her ears, “mine.”_

_“Yours! She keens loudly, “Yours!”_

“Nyota…” she hears a voice say and blinks, her eyes opening as she blurrily glances around in the dark of her quarters. She realizes that the view screen is on, blinks at Sarek’s face through the darkness. The bright light of the screen makes her wince and close her eyes, waits for them to adjust before she sits up, “Lights” she says and tilts her head to one side, looking at Sarek sleepily, “I thought you wouldn’t be able to contact me when were so far out.”

“You appear to have come back within range,” he says and Nyota winces at the glaringly obvious, something she probably should have picked up on already.

“Yeah,” Nyota nods as she props herself up against the headboard of her bed, “What time is it?”

“It is morning here,” he responds evenly, “approximately six point thirty-two in the morning.”

“You are an early riser,” Nyota muses aloud with a nod.

“I apologize for waking you,” he says as he takes in her appearance, “you appeared to be suffering from a neural phenomenon.”

“It wasn’t a nightmare,” Nyota blushes brightly and stares up at the ceiling, “I wasn’t suffering from it or anything.”

“I see,” he says, noting her heavy breathing and the sweat that coats her skin, “your appearance however would indicate an increased level of adrenaline commonly associated with the terran phrase  _nightmare_.”

“There are other things that could be associated with it too,” Nyota says without looking at him, keeping her eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Perhaps a chemical imbalance or perhaps your increased workload is causing a higher level of stress inhibiting you from sleeping…your body could be--…”

She cuts him off, smiles softly at him as she shakes her head, “I was dreaming of _you_.”

“Oh,” he pauses, for a moment he almost looks _pleased_ , “what was your…” he trails off and meets her gaze as if he isn’t certain what to say.

“Neural phenomenon?” she offers with a half-smile.

“Yes…what was it…about?” he asks casually as if discussing the weather though she knows he’s curious, knows that he secretly would like to know what she was dreaming about.

“New Vulcan,” she tells him quietly, “we were on New Vulcan...it was about our wedding day,” she finishes, watching his reaction.

It doesn’t sink in.

He stares at her, quirks an eyebrow and nods, opens his mouth to reply and then snaps it closed, blinking at her for several moments as realization flutters across his face as he utters, “I see.”

They are both silent for nearly a full minute before he says, “I am gratified that your neural phenomenon’s involve such events.”

_He just told her he was happy she was having sex dreams about him…._

“So,” Nyota begins hesitantly, “Have you spoken with Spock at all?”

“Not as of yet,” he says as meets her gaze, “if you are referring to the topic to which I believe you are.”

Nyota nods as she stares down at the sheets of her bed a question forming in her mind that she had often pondered over the last three months, “What is…being bonded like?”

“I would always be in your mind,” he begins thoughtfully as he watches her stare nervously down at the sheets, “as you would always be in mine, and we would be able to sense each other despite the distance between us. We can shield our thoughts from one another but not entirely, it would be difficult to do so. Does this bother you?”

“No,” Nyota says as she shakes her head, “it’s just hard,” she says quietly, “being away from you for so long. I had grown accustomed to your presence and when I left I found myself missing you.”

“The bond would ease that tension,” he says gently, watches the emotions play across her face, “if you had need of me you could simply reach through the link.”

“I doubt the link would ease _all_ the tension,” she mutters quietly to herself and watches him lift a cup of tea to his lips, thinks that he is hiding a smile behind the rim of his cup.

 _Sarek was frustrating like that_ , Nyota thinks. He was so diligent and strict to follow his Vulcan logic, he was harder to understand then Spock was. Once Spock had become comfortable in their relationship she could have easily enticed him with a little show of skin over the view screen. Sarek however, was a whole new level of privacy, whereas he would probably be mortified if she took off her shirt over the view screen.

She respected his need for privacy, understood why he needed it. Vulcans needed their logic because it helped them control the intensity of their emotions. Sarek most likely clung to his logic as he did because his emotions were powerful, and if he were to give into them the consequences could be good or bad. “Meditation,” he says and she barely hears him over the noise of her own thoughts, pauses mid-inner monologue to glance up at him, “Meditation?”

“Meditation,” he nods, “It will calm your mind…and your body.”

Somehow she doubted meditating was going to calm her hormones…

“Spock can show you,” he suggests when she doesn’t reply immediately, “ _venlinahr_ ,” he explains easily, “Can be used to control your emotions.”

The man was suggesting she meditate rather than offer…

_Oh give it a shot Nyota…you might like it._

“I’ll ask Spock about it,” Nyota nods, yawns tiredly as she stretches out her arms above her head.

“I will leave you to rest,” he says with a tilt of his head, “I must go and prepare for the day.”

Nyota nods as she watches the view screen go dark. With a muttered order of ‘ _lights off_ ’ she curls back up in bed and goes back to sleep.  The following weeks prove pointless; Spock’s attempts at teaching her _venlinahr_ are complicated. By the end of the fourth month she has found a certain level of peace however, has calmed her mind and body enough that she hardly notices her frustration anymore. Her workload suddenly seems less tedious, her attitude has improved so much that even Spock no longer questions her about her mood.

Ok so there really was something to this meditation thing after all…

Nyota thinks with mild amusement, watches Spock light the candles in his meditation room before coming to sit down beside her. It was easier to meditate with him then it was alone, for some reason he was a comforting presence when her mind was in chaos. They’d finally reached a certain level of comfort with each other that Nyota could handle, where she did not feel the need to flee the room because he was taking his shirt off, or changing into his meditation robes. They were comfortable with each other now and this pleased her immensely.

“I can sense your contentment _orensu_ ,” Spock says quietly during their usual meditation ritual, “You are broadcasting very loudly in fact.”

“I’m just happy,” she admits, smiling though her eyes are closed still, “I wasn’t sure this would work…but it is.”

“Patience,” he says in response, “is the foundation of meditation…it is the first lesson you must learn before you can excel in _venlinahr_.”

“ _Osavensu_ ,” Nyota says after a long while, when they had finished meditation for the evening and had stood up to put out the candles, “Will you come with me to New Vulcan?”

“It is my father’s betrothal,” Spock says neutrally, “I may attend if I wish…however it is not required of me.”

“Technically it’s our wedding,” Nyota says quietly, “I mean…we’ve already completed the other half of the ceremony on our own.”

“True,” Spock nods, “However I will be needed here on the ship…and you will need time alone with my father.”

“Will you go to our second wedding?” Nyota asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“Nyota,” he sighs as he puts out the last candle, “I must admit…I am…discomforted by the notion of you marrying another. In truth it was I who ended our relationship but it does not change the attachment I have for you. I did what I believed was right…what was fair to us both.”

“Oh,” Nyota says and turns away, tries to ignore the pang of heartache in her chest as she slides off her meditation robes and changes back into her clothes.

“ _Ashayam_ ,” he murmurs and she can hear the sorrow in his voice, “I will find contentment with this one day,” he tells her gently, “I felt it was not right to continue our relationship when I could not wholly devote myself to you any longer. I found myself wanting of another…it would not be fair of me to hold onto you while I longed for another.”

_Damnit…_

Old wounds were reopening, pain that was causing tears to burn in her eyes. She had been certain she’d gotten over Spock, certain that she’d let him go at long last. He sounded so forlorn and yet she knew this was the right thing to do, knows that he is happier with Kirk then he had been with her. The love they had was beautiful, but it faded along the way. He now shares that same passion with Kirk, and she hoped it would last between them, wished them all the best of luck.

“I need to get back to my quarters,” Nyota says in a clipped tone, steps away from him before he can reach out to her. The calm of _venlinahr_ was fading with the sorrow she felt; suddenly wished Sarek was there because he always managed to make her forget her pain.

_She missed him so much…_

“Nyota,” Spock says as he watches her leave his quarters, “ _please_ …”

“Spock,” Nyota sighs heavily, “why is it that we can’t just go back to being friends? Why is this so damn hard…I thought…the connection we have would endure anything. I thought sure…we’d hurt for a while but we could fix this. I’ve come to accept Kirk in your life; I accept that you chose him over me. Now I need you to accept that I chose Sarek as my husband…I _want_ to marry him Spock…he makes me _happy_.”

“I did not say that I was not accepting of your union with my father,” Spock frowns, “I merely stated that I find it difficult to relinquish the attachment I have to you.”

“Spock,” Nyota laughs faintly despite the tears in her eyes, “Love isn’t that simple. I still love you…I always will but I love your father too…I’m going to marry him.”

_She just said….she **did** …_

Nyota stands there dumbstruck for a few moments, realizes what she just said. She said she loved Sarek, loved a man she hasn’t known that long and yet knows that she does, even if it sounds crazy. She loved his intellect, she loved the conversations they had, she loved the way he would obsessively order the books in his library by author and genre, the dedication he had to his job, the sound of his voice especially when he was talking to her, the way her name rolled off his lips whenever he spoke it. She loved the way he was thoughtful, the way he seemed so earnest and sincere in his affections towards her, the way he’d watch her when he thought she wasn’t looking, the way his eyes would darken when she said his name.  She loved everything about him, even the little quirks, even the big quirks, even the moments when he was so stubborn and drove her crazy. He was quite possibly the most stoic Vulcan she’d ever met, but underneath that façade he was all passion and stubborn love.  He was unyielding in his desires; he’d pursued her tenaciously until she was his.

“Just like how _you love me_ ,” she says and glares at him when he tries to speak before continuing, “Just like how you love me but _you love Kirk_ also…maybe one day you’ll marry him too.”

She turns and leaves Spock standing in his quarters watching her go, knows that he won’t say anything that wouldn’t sound like something he read out of an encyclopedia about love being a chemically induced state.

 

               During the following weeks they return to the usual pattern. She still meditates with him but he never tries to bring up the topic again. They still talk and they still laugh, she watches movies with him and Kirk every once in a while when she and Kirk can convince him to sit down long enough to watch one. Sometimes though she wants her privacy after her shift, sometimes she goes running in the gym, or meditates in a quiet place on the observation deck when everybody else is asleep. Sometimes she just sits and stares out at the stars, contemplating what she truly wants and begins to wonder if it’s what she really needs.  Human emotions were different from Vulcan emotions, she missed Sarek when she is away from him, missed being close to him. Vulcans could handle such separation without difficulty but humans could not, and now she began to wonder if perhaps a teaching job would suit her better. She enjoyed her work on the Enterprise, enjoyed travelling the stars but now she began to wonder what else was out there for her.

How had her plans changed so much?

  The day she is taken to New Vulcan for her shore leave, Spock meets her in the shuttle bay before departure. 

“Spock?” Nyota says as he approaches her, notes his formal robes and looks at him up at him curiously.

“I have come to escort you,” he says gently as he gazes down at her, “I will see you to the ceremonial grounds.”

“You’re coming with me?” Nyota says, sudden joy rushing through her.

“I will attend,” he nods, “As you have put it…you have accepted my choices…and I accept yours.”

“Thank you,” she says, unable to keep the tears from her eyes, “I sent a sub-space call to my parents about it all…they won’t be able to make it and I thought I’d be all alone…my betrothal party would consist of me and a bunch of men carrying bells…” Nyota laughs through her tears, “I’m so happy you’re going!”

“I am gratified,” Spock says with mild amusement dancing in his eyes.

 

**New Vulcan**

               When they reach New Vulcan they are taken to newly built lodgings on the edge of the colony, Spock seems to shift uncomfortably beside her in the flitter and she knows that he is feeling the slightest twinge of despair as he looks out the window. This was not Vulcan; this was not the home he once knew. They are greeted at the door by T’riel, who shows them their rooms and instructs them to wait in the living room.

“So?” Nyota asks, watches Spock pace the length of the living room several times. He glances back at her with a quirked eyebrow, “Did you mean to ask me something?”

“Yes,” Nyota nods, “What do you think of the planet?”

“If you mean physically…the climate is stable enough to support Vulcan life, it is quite similar to the heat and denser atmosphere of Vulcan. It has a similar desert like geographical nature which my elder self choose carefully so that our traditions and way of life might be maintained. If you are referring to whether or not I feel it is…home….” Spock trails off, his features darkening, “No…my home is gone.”

“I know,” Nyota frowns up at him, “I realize it must be hard but you have to give it a chance. It will never be Vulcan…it will never truly be _home_ …but it works.”

“I wish you could have seen Vulcan,” Spock frowns, “you would have liked it.”

“Nyota… _safu_ ,” they hear Sarek say as he enters the living room, shifts his gaze between them both, “I am gratified by your presence. I was not aware that you would be in attendance _safu_.”

“ _Sa-mekh_ ,” Spock bows his head respectfully, “I came here as part of Nyota’s betrothal party. Her family will not be in attendance today, they were unable to make it.”

Sarek shoots a glance in Nyota’s direction and she shrugs, “They’ve requested a ceremony on earth as well. They would have come today but they were detained by events back on earth.”

“I see,” Sarek says, shifting his gaze between the two, “come…T’pau is waiting for us.”

As they walk Nyota tries very hard to keep calm, tries not to stare at Sarek as they walk. He looks just as handsome as she remembered, sporting heavy dark brown robes with gold trim. His bronze colored skin was tinted with green, there was a soft sheen to his skin that shimmered in the sunlight outside as they walked out onto the back patio. An elderly woman sat in a chair overlooking the garden, draped in heavy brown robes with her hair up in braids.

“S’tai T’pau,” Sarek says respectfully, “I bring to you my _ko-kugalsu_ , Nyota Uhura.”

_Deer In the headlights….again._

Quickly she steps forward, notes his outstretched fingers in the shape of the _ozh’esta_ , quickly brings two fingers up to meet his as she steps up beside him and bows her head politely, “S’tai T’pau.”

The elderly woman regards her, her eyes squinting in the sunlight as she examines the human before her, “I fail to understand the fascination S’haile Sarek has for human women,” she begins thoughtfully, “logically it would serve as a unity between two worlds. I know the truth of you Nyota Uhura,” T’pau says pointedly, “I know what you have done for the _S’chn T’gai_ clan.”

Nyota was trying very hard to focus on what T’pau was saying, trying very hard to ignore the warm reaching down her arm, the feel of Sarek’s mind brushing against hers in a soft caress. “It was my honor S’tai T’pau.”

“It was only logical…honor is a _human_ emotion… _pride_..,” she retorts as she narrows her eyes, “an act done to preserve the life of one who is a contributive force in society.”

“Logical indeed,” Nyota responds, fixing her gaze on the woman before her, “Though by your own logic would you not agree that the preservation of life be it illogical or not is worth saving…the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one.”

_There…take that!_

               She suppresses the urge to grin at the look on T’pau’s face, which was completely neutral but she’s fairly certain those beady black eyes of hers are about to pop right out of her head. By stating what she’d just said, she was more or less telling her that Sarek’s life was worth saving, that saving him was saving hundreds. It was true too, the fact that he was ambassador was the reason so many civilizations had found peace with others.

“Indeed,” T’pau says and she can feel how pleased Sarek is through their joined fingers, swallows thickly as T’pau continues, “The ceremony will commence tomorrow morning.”

 

               Dinner was just as uncomfortable, swamped by the surviving relatives of Sarek’s family and of course T’pau, Nyota knew she was in over her head. It was difficult to sit right next to Sarek and not touch him, not tackle him to the ground right then and there. She had to uphold a certain sense of decorum around his family and in public, had to behave as emotionless and as neutral as the rest of his family was. She greeted each individual, had long and tedious conversations with half of them before she was finally allowed to retire for the night, stripping off her clothes and sitting in under the coolness of the sonic shower. Water was precious even on this planet, and right now as hot as it was she wanted to sit under a nice cold shower. When she was showered and was clean she pulled on her pajamas and climbed into the bed in the center of the room, burrowed down into the covers and closed her eyes as she tries not to think about Sarek probably being just down the hall from her.

               In the morning she is prodded out of bed by several Vulcan handmaidens who spent the next two hours braiding her hair and lacing her up in traditional Vulcan formal robes. It was already hot outside when she was finally escorted out to the ceremonial grounds, Spock by her side in deep black robes with his family name embroidered in gold down the front of it. She notes that Sarek wears something similar to him when they arrive, tries not to stare as she is guided into the chamber where the ceremony takes place. She is surprised to see Gaila in the background, grinning from ear to ear at her despite the irritated looks of the Vulcans around her.

               She is lead to the front where she is instructed to kneel across from Sarek, their fingers joined in the _ozh’esta_ as T’pau begins the ceremony.

“ _Let us begin_ ,” T’pau says in the Vulcan dialect as her gaze sweeps over the room, “ _Sarek son of Skon and T’Rama, are you prepared for bonding_?”

“ _I am_ ,” he says firmly.

“ _Nyota Uhura daughter of Alhamisi and M'Umbha Uhura are you prepared for bonding_?”

“ _I am_ ,” Nyota replies evenly in the Vulcan dialect.

T’pau reaches forward, her hands resting on both of their faces against their psi points, “ _Our minds, one and together…_ ” T’pau says as Nyota feels a dry shock of telepathic energy rush through her, and then quite suddenly she feels Sarek, his warmth wrapping around her mind.

“ _Touching, yet not touching; apart, yet never apart_ ,” Sarek and Nyota echo together, and then add, “ _We are one_.”

“ _It is done_ ,” T’pau nods as she releases them both from the mind meld, “ _Peace and long life to you both._ ”

“ _Live long and prosper_ ,” Sarek says as they stand, saluting T’pau with the traditional sign of the _ta’al_.

               When they leave the ceremonial chamber Nyota can still feel him in her mind, unable to resist shying away from it because he could probably now see how much she has missed him. She doesn’t manage to keep her distance long before he is suddenly very close to her, feels a very sharp pang of lust that makes her squirm in her seat. She peers at him from the corner of her eyes, notes his calm reserve and the neutral expression on his face as he speaks to his relatives as they ride back to his home inside the flitter. He doesn’t even _look_ like he’s aroused, displays none of the emotions she is suddenly feeling from him through the link in her mind. When they reach his home they all file out of the flitter and head into the house, the guests spreading out to the patio and living room area.

“My _ko-kugalsu_ attend,” she hears him say and quirks an eyebrow at the fingers he holds up towards her, sees the expectant look on his face. She steps forward and presses her fingers against his, allows him to guide her around the room as they greet family members. In the middle of one particularly boring conversation she restrains the urge to gasp, carefully keeps her face neutral as the sudden bursting images in her mind leave her slightly shaken.

_/…The bedroom…she is keening in pleasure while he takes her against the wall…/_

She is fairly certain her eye is twitching, blinks several times to disperse the unwanted physical reaction before anyone notices. She continues to follow him around the room, tries very hard to suppress her physical desires as his persistence to torment her with such images continues.

/… _She is on her knees before him as he fills her mouth with his body…pumps his lok into her mouth until he comes…his khrasaya sliding down her chin onto her bare breasts…_ /

_Dirty Vulcan…dirty…dirty Vulcan…_

She feels the distinct burn of amusement in his mind at her thoughts and winces internally. She doesn’t know how to shield her thoughts from his, feels the increase of his amusement with her struggle. She doesn’t physically show her annoyance with him; rather she pushes it towards him through the link and speaks politely with the guests aloud. She never shows the slightest hint of the conversation currently underway in their joined minds.

“How do you find New Vulcan?” asked one of his relatives politely.

“I find it pleasant,” Nyota said neutrally, watches the pleased look etch across the relatives face at her lack of emotion.

_It’s hot…I’m sweaty…these robes are really heavy…but other than that I’m doing pretty well here._

“I congratulate you S’haile,” T’riel says politely, bowing his head respectfully with his bondmate at his side.

“I am gratified,” Sarek says with a polite nod.

_/…hands sliding over her hips…cupping her buttocks…touching her thighs…the feel of his teeth digging into the tender flesh of her shoulder…/_

Nyota takes a deep breath and exhales sharply through her nose, tries not to make it too noticeable as she steps away from Sarek for a moment to speak to another relative. She feels the immediate change in his disposition, knows that he is displeased with her now.

“My _ko-kugalsu_ ,” he says and she turns to glance at him, watches him hold out his fingers once more, “attend.” She steps forward, notes the forcibly stern look on his face and knows he’s not angry with her; he is merely displeased with her lack of proximity.

So he _did_ miss her…

The images she continued to see flashing through her mind throughout the afternoon were becoming a nuance to her self-control.  She could do nothing to ease the tension, knows that others would notice if she were to shift uncomfortably in her seat at lunch.  The bond was inescapable and because she couldn’t shield her thoughts from his she was open to the full blast of his torment. 

Honestly she wasn’t expecting this…so much for that Vulcan façade…

She lifts her wine glass to take a sip and almost chokes on it as she feels his tongue sliding over the bare skin of her stomach, blinks several times as she is certain Sarek is still sitting next to her and her clothes are still on. When they serve lunch she eats delicately, tries to ignore the way he keep sending her dirty telepathic thoughts or the way his fingers kept finding hers, the force of his emotions nearly making her tremble.

/… _His tongue sliding over her bare stomach…his tongue sliding between the sensitive lips of her core…his mouth and his fingers making her cry out his name…/_

Ok… _that’s it_ ….

She contemplates something, shifts her gaze across the table before sneaking a glance in Sarek’s direction. She forms the images in her mind and pushes them through the link, watches the subtle shift in his reserve before he recovers quickly.

_Ha!_

/… _She is screaming…her name echoing across the desert with the hot sand being scrapped roughly across her skin as he drives her down onto her knees, his body covering hers as his lok presses insistently into the hot core of her…his hands in her hair as he pulls her head back while his hips snap forward, his head dipping forward as he buries his teeth in her shoulder…/_

_Wow…_

That image was almost better than the one she’d sent of the dream she’d had a few months ago. She was silently contemplating how quickly she could excuse herself and drag him outside into the desert to try it out.

_/The guests would notice k’diwa./_

She hears his voice echo in her mind and she blinks, glances at him in surprise. He wasn’t even looking at her, was still talking to another relative. She glances towards Spock who is practically staring at them, knows that he must have figured out what is going on and feels her cheeks flush.

_/Spock?/_

The mental word rings in her mind and suddenly she feels him, his eyes have shifted to someone across the table from him but he was talking to her telepathically.

/ _Yes_?/

/ _I wasn’t aware we’d be connected like this…/_

She feels his amusement, feels Sarek in the background trying to sort out what they’re talking about and his displeasure at being left out of the conversation.

/ _the familial link allows us to communicate like this./_

He tells her, watches her stare down at her plate intensely and quietly wonders why he feels such sudden embarrassment from her.

/ _I hope…you didn’t see…were you…_ /

/ _Ashayam…I would not see into what is a private link between my father and yourself…/_

Nyota nods subtly and continues to eat her lunch, is grateful when the food is gone and they all gather outside on the patio. This wasn’t even a wedding reception but it felt like one, the house was filled with guests that didn’t seem to want to _leave_. All she wanted to do was shove Sarek down onto the couch….

She finds a spare moment to sneak away and does so, holds herself up in the bathroom where she sheds her outer robes and slides her hands between her legs, closes her eyes as she tries to relieve some of the tension. He’d been vicious today, absolutely vicious with the way he’d aroused her, tenaciously though subtly chasing her across the patio without so much as quirking an eyebrow. All he’d had to do was send her one of those dirty little Vulcan thoughts of his and she’d be a puddle on the floor.

               It was a wonder that nobody noticed he was following her all afternoon, when she’d find her way to one side of the patio he’d suddenly materialize beside her when he’d been standing a good twenty feet away from her seconds before. She noticed that distance did not help the flood of images he kept sending her, did not ease the tension he was slowly building within her body. She hums quietly in pleasure when she thinks of him, imagines his fingers in her body as she rubs slow circles over her clit.

/ _No._ /

She hears his voice suddenly say firmly in her mind, hears the command in his voice and realizes he must be able to sense what she is doing, blinks as her eyes widen.

/ _You will not do this…I will be the one to give you pleasure…it will be upon my fingers and my lok you will find release_. /

“ _Sarek_ ,” she whines aloud quietly, irritated and frustrated as she stops, feels her body protesting at the lack of stimulation. There is finality in his mind, no room for compromise. He is determined to have his way on this and begrudgingly she goes along with it.

Irritated she pulls on her outer robes and tries very hard not to stomp all the way back out onto the patio, ignores the way he suddenly materializes right beside her again and follows her across the patio where she sits down and sips from a glass of _kvass_.

This was coming from the same man who’d told her to _meditate_ in order to relieve sexual tension.

“Are you feeling unwell my _ko-kugalsu_?” he asks casually, his expression neutral though his dark eyes were boring into hers.

“No,” Nyota says just as nonchalantly, sips from her glass of kvass before adding, “I think perhaps I need to _meditate_.”

“Meditation is a useful tool,” he nods, watching the guests roam around the garden.

/ _Unless you want me to tackle you to the ground in front of all the guests my sa-kugalsu, you should refrain from tempting me as you do_. /

She feels warm amusement curling in her mind as he shifts behind her, the heat of his body close to hers as he reaches past her to retrieve a glass of _kvass_ for himself.

/ _I trust your restraint implicitly my ko-kugalsu…I know you would not do something so scandalous before our family. /_

Nyota stares down at her glass, slides her finger along the rim of it as she sends him another mental image, decides that if she’s going to walk around hot and bothered all afternoon then he will too. She waits for him to engage in a conversation with someone, that someone being T’pau much to her amusement before sending him the image.

/… _She holds his lok in her hand, slides her tongue over the tip and then runs her lips down to the base and back up again…her fingers tugging on the dark hair nestled around it…_ /

She watches him shift from one foot to the other, notices the first signs of strain around his eyes are he tries to control himself. Sarek was very good at it though; he’s had years of practice hiding his emotions, using his logic to guide him.

_/…she is bent over the table, his hand at the nape of her neck with her legs spread wide to allow him better access…she is clawing and whimpering against the table as he fucks her, his fingers digging into her hips with bruising force as his lok hammers into her wet core…/_

She was going to fucking throw him down right there in the middle of the garden in front of _everyone_ …

Ok…maybe not in front of Spock…

“Nyota,” Gaila says brightly as she steps up to her friend, “You look…” she wrinkles her nose as she inhales sharply and then grins at her friend, “interesting.”

“Thanks,” Nyota says drily, irritation flashing across her face because she _knows_ that Gaila can smell the arousal on her. It was something she’s been struggling to hide all day long, and now here was Gaila of all people calling her out on it.

“So…what’s it like?” she asks, knows that she’s referring to the bond in her mind.

“Different,” Nyota shrugs, “I can feel him…even when he’s far away from me.”

“That’s good,” Gaila nods, “When we’re out and about on the _Enterprise_ you can still get your jollies regardless of how far away from him you are.”

Nyota blanches visibly as one of the relatives turns to glance at them, flashes an apologetic look in their direction and then glares at Gaila as she hisses, “will you please keep your voice down? I’m fairly certain the entire family just heard you.”

“ _Oops_ ,” Gaila ducks her head slightly, “sorry.”

“Ensign,” she hears Spock’s voice chime in shortly after, “I wasn’t aware you were on leave here.”

“No commander,” Gaila says as Spock approaches, “I requested shore leave here so that I might attend the bonding.”

“I see,” Spock nods as he glances at Nyota, taking the faint sheen of sweat on her brow or the way she shifts uncomfortably in her seat from time to time, “are you unwell S’tai Nyota?”

That was _so_ much better than _dahrik ko-mekh_ …

“I’m fine Spock,” Nyota says quietly, shooting him an annoyed glare.

He has the nerve to look amused as he glances towards Gaila pointedly, quirks an eyebrow as he speaks, “I trust you will conduct yourself accordingly while in the presence of my family ensign.”

“Of course Commander,” Gaila says politely, smiles up at him as he turns and walks away.

“Ok well,” Gaila says as she glances around, “I think I’m going to head back up to the Enterprise…it’s still in orbit since their dropping off a few crates of supplies. Captain Kirk gave me permission to come to this but I promised him I’d be back before they left.”

“Ok,” Nyota nods as she smiles up at her friend “Have a safe journey.”

“ _Live long and prosper_ ,” Gaila says in the Vulcan dialect as she grins at her, forming her fingers in the _ta’al_.

“ _Peace and long life_ ,” Nyota responds in the same dialect, forming her own fingers in the _ta’al_. Gaila turns and leaves and Nyota watches her go, glances around at the guests and wonders quietly just how much longer these people intended to stay.

When everything finally winds down and the last guest leaves she is left with only Sarek and Spock in the house. Spock makes his own excuses and leaves the house, claims that he is going to head back up to the Enterprise before it leaves. She knows that he doesn’t really have to go back just yet; the Enterprise wouldn’t leave for another hour or so.  She was alone with Sarek now, had an entire month to spend with him here on New Vulcan.

“My _ko-kugalsu_ ,” she hears him call from the other room, “attend.”

She gets up and walks through the house, finds him in a neutrally colored room, sandy colored walls and soft brown rugs. Candles line the walls and she watches him light them, watches him turn to glance at her and motion towards one of the robes neatly folded on a chair nearby. 

He wants to _meditate?_

Nyota shifts her gaze between the robe on the chair and her sa-kugalsu stripping off his robes to change into his meditation clothes. She swallows thickly and does the same, strips slowly, one layer at a time until she’s in her bra and underwear, relieved to feel the air rush against her skin.

“Are you having trouble with your robes my _ko-kugalsu_?” he asks innocently and she feels the sudden urge to throw one of those candles at him.

“No,” she says neutrally as she pulls on her meditation robes, silently wonders who’d unpacked her things and left these in here for her to change into. She turns and sits down next to him on the floor, closes her eyes as she tries to force her mind into the meditation of _venlinahr_.

They meditate for well over an hour and remarkably she feels a little calmer afterwards, a little less likely to throw things at him.

“To throw things at your _adun_ would be inappropriate conduct for a proper Vulcan wife _k’diwa_ ,” she hears him say as they stand and he proceeds to blow out the candles.

 _Adun_ …

Words in the Vulcan language they would address each other with when they were alone, because technically they were already married. Sarek chose not to complete the ceremony for her, was allowing her to continue her career aboard the Enterprise until his next Ponn Farr.

“Considering you’ve spent the better part of the afternoon taking advantage of our bond-link my _adun_ , I can’t help but feel somewhat frustrated,” she quips saucily, watches him watch her as she leaves the room and starts towards her bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he asks as he follows her down the hallway

“I am going to retire to my room for a nap,” she says innocently, “the events of this afternoon were _very_ tiring.”

“I see,” he says, looking perfectly confused as she strips out of her meditation robes and walks into the bathroom inside her room.

“Is there something wrong my _sa-kugalsu_?” she calls, blinking at him with wide impeccant eyes.

“You’re behavior is baffling _aduna_ ,” he says as he watches her turn on the sonic shower, “is this a human eccentricity?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Nyota frowns, tilts her head to one side.

“You desire me,” he points out blatantly, “I could smell it on your skin as you changed into your meditation robes…now you behave as if no such event has occurred….you mentioned earlier of your desire to meditate and I was merely acquiescing to your desires _aduna_.”

Oh…. _oops_ ….he thought she was being serious earlier…

Nyota blinks at him and straightens as she meets his gaze, “Sarek I was being sarcastic…I was making a reference towards a time months ago when you told me to meditate after I more or less told you I had a sex dream about you.”

“Your neural phenomenon’s were of a sexual nature?” Now he looked _really_ confused.

_Vulcans…so literal…_

Nyota sighs as she stares at him for a moment before she makes up her mind, walks towards him in nothing more than her undergarments and catches his face between her hands, tilting her head back to press her lips against his. For a moment he freezes until his hands slide over her hips and he melts against her, feels the possessiveness of his touch seeping in through her skin as his mind swirls around hers. She reads his thoughts and knows his desires, feels him lift her into his arms as she wraps her legs around his waist.

               He carries her down the hallway back into his room, deposits her on his bed before stripping out of his meditation robes. She hums in delight when he reaches across the bed for her, catches her by the ankles and pulls her towards him. His mouth was hot against the bare skin of her stomach as he slides his tongue across her skin, touching and tasting her. She whimpers when she feels his hands tear the fabric of her underwear; pull at the clasp of her bra until she is bare before his burning gaze. She watches him lean back to take in the sight of her open and naked spread out across his bed, arches her body towards his touch when he slides an open hand across her body from her breasts all the way down to the aching core of her, sees the way his eyes grew darker at the sight of her so wet for him.

               He dips his head down between her thighs and slides his tongue along the length of her soaked center, her insides clenching hotly at the feel of it. She is desperate to have him now, needs to feel him inside of her. He has tormented her all day long, driven her mad with desire and now she wants to feel his body thrusting into hers, filling her completely. Her hands paw at the tie of his pants, yanking the knot loose as she hurriedly shoves his pants down over his hips.

Her fingers curl around his length, hears him growl deep in his chest and closes his eyes as she sits up, shifting onto her knees so she can slide her tongue over the head of his _lok_. She suckles him hotly, slides her tongue along his shaft and sucks him into her mouth, marvels at the alien noises he makes while his hips thrust into her mouth delightfully. His hand clench in her hair and she hums around his _lok_ , hears him gasp as her mouth vibrates around him. Quickly he pulls out of her mouth with a resounding _pop_ , shoves her backwards onto the bed so he can press his face against the core of her. He inhales deeply, makes her keen when his tongue presses into her and licks away the sweet taste of her wetness. She doesn’t really care at this point how or where they fuck, so long as he fucks her. All rational thought has fled from her mind, reducing her to her baser instincts, the need to pull him tighter against her, to feel his teeth in her flesh and his body pounding into hers.

               He hears her thoughts and drags her closer, his fingers bruising her hips as he aligns their bodies and drive into her hard, fills her completely. He is demanding with his body, demanding she take all of him, driving his claim into her body and onto her skin. His fingers find her face and his mind presses against hers, their combined pleasure making Nyota cry out in ecstasy.

It is not enough.

She needs _more_ ; she needs to be closer as she drives her nails into his arms leaving long thin streaks of green down his arms. He growls at her, pulls her closer as they slide down to the floor with Nyota in his lap. His _lok_ fills her in a new way, whimpers as he stretches her to the point of pain, his hips driving up into her as she digs her teeth into the flesh of his shoulder. The only sound is their heavy breathing, the slap of skin against skin as she rides him, her nails digging into his back as she clings to him while his hands grip her hips with crushing force. His teeth sink into her shoulder and she howls, the combination of pain and pleasure overwhelming.

Her mind drifts over her dreams, feels the thick weight of desire coursing through her at the thought of it. He knows her thoughts of course, he sees what she sees and he hums in response, she can feel through the bond that he wants it too. Abruptly he pulls out of her and flips her over, drives her face down into the carpet as her buttocks are propped up into the air (a position she has come to absolutely _love_ ) his hands sliding over her backside as he spreads her legs, leaving her open to him.                She whimpers against the rug, claws at it with her hands like she’d seen in the images he’d sent to her, growls as she raises her hips towards his, _needs_ to feel his body within her.  He snarls and she gasps at the sharp sting across her backside, realizes he just smacked her ass.

               He spreads her cheeks and runs his fingers along the tight niche, hears her whimper as his fingers slide lower, rubs along her clit. He slides his lok across her wet core, revels in the sound of her whimpering cries, pleased to hear his mate beg for his attentions. She belonged to him, belonged beneath him keening and _begging_ for him to take her.  He fills her with one swift movement, hears her howl her pleasure as his _lok_ stretches the tight wet sheath of her. He forces himself deeper, forces her to take all of him, hears her whimpers as she claws at the rug, thrashes beneath him as her hips buck against his, pleading with him to fuck her.

/yesyesyes! /

She cries through the link in their minds, keens her pleasure as he pulls back and drives into her again; her mind in a chaos of sensation as he begins to ride her, drives into her roughly. Her breasts chaff against the rug beneath her, her mouth agape as she pants heavily and her eyes drift closed, her hips held firmly in place as he fucks her. She growls and whines as she tries to buck her hips against his but he won’t allow it, allots her only what he gives to her. When she tries to shift her position he hisses in annoyance and stops, waits for her to cease her struggle before he continues. She submits willingly if only to fill the aching void in her, the desperate need to feel him close to her.

Six months….six _long_ months…

               She feels the beginning of an orgasm, feels her body winding impossibly tighter and she cries out, babbling incoherently in the Vulcan dialect words of encouragement as he thrusts into her harder, his own orgasm beginning as his thrusts become more sporadic and uncoordinated, hears him grunting heavily as her body clenches down around his and she screams his name aloud and in his mind, feels her vision blackening with the force of her release. Moments after he is rumbling out her name, his voice harsh and alien as it echoes off the walls of his bedroom.

As far as she is concerned…he could fuck her like this _everyday…_

She whimpers into the carpet at the feel of his scorching _khrasaya_ filling her womb, pushes her hips back against his until her body aches with the pressure of his _lok_ inside of her. He drops down onto his hands, propping himself up on them with one of either side of her head. She feels the slick hot skin of his chest against her back as they pant together, their bodies still joined. Slowly he sits up and pulls out of her, loops an arm around her waist as she rises up to climb back up onto the bed with him. They slump exhaustedly onto the soft mattress, entangled in each other’s arms as they drift off to sleep.

               Hours later she is awakened by the feel of his mouth on her shoulder and the hard length of his _lok_ pressed against her back. Eagerly she hooks a leg over his thigh where he lay behind her, hisses in pleasure as he rubs the head of his lok against her already wet entrance before pushing into her. He pumps himself into her, pushes her towards the edge of another orgasm before he slows down, nibbles her shoulders and slides his tongue across her skin before he picks up the pace again.

               Eventually he changes positions, sits up behind her against the headboard and pulls her into his lap with her back against his chest. He reaches around and dips his fingers into the wet heat of her, slides his fingers down between her ass cheeks as circles the tight niche between them. Nyota whimpers as she recalls her dreams once more, curious and wide eyed as he pushes his fingers into her, pumps them into her slowly as she becomes accustomed to the sensation. He pulls his fingers out and she feels the tip of his lok against her backside, slides between her cheeks and presses against the tight puckered niche. In this position he gives her the opportunity to impale herself upon it slowly, holds her hips as he lets her raise up and sink down onto him. She whimpers and spreads her legs farther apart, takes a deep breath as he fills her.

“Slowly _k’diwa_ ,” she hears him murmur near her ear, presses open mouth kisses against her skin.

Her mouth is open and she is panting heavily by the time he fills her completely, raises up and slides back down onto him once more before his hips gently thrust up into her in a slow languid rhythm. She whimpers at the sensation, leans her head back against his shoulder and pants his name as his fingers press against her clit deliciously.

“Yes…yes… _adun_ …yes!” she keens, feels the hot core of her clench in wonderful pleasure as an orgasm breaks over her. He hums against her neck, feels his teeth digging into her skin as he grunts his own pleasure, fills her with his seed. After several moments she rises up off of his lap and turns over onto her side, watches him lie down next to her and pull her into his arms.

“ _T’nash-veh_?” he asks her as he inhales the scent of her silky black hair.

“ _Du’nash-veh_ ,” she agrees wholeheartedly, filling his mind with all of her love for him, “ _Du’nash-veh_.”

“ _T’nash-veh_ ,” he agrees as well, pulls her closer as she presses her face into the crook between his neck and shoulder and drifts off to sleep again. It was barely dark outside but her body was exhausted from the day and from their most recent activities. All she wanted to do was sleep; all she wanted was to be as close to Sarek as possible.

               She knew with certainty that this was where she belonged. This man though capable of driving her completely insane sometimes with his stubborn nature had won her over completely. Though they hadn’t been together very long she felt a deep connection to him, knew that they still had another seven years to completely learn everything about each other, even if technically they were already married…

               Quietly she is thankful that she opted to save his life over a year ago, thankful that he chose her. She may have been hesitant in the beginning, may have been afraid that he was making a mistake by choosing her, but his patience and his understanding had soothed her fears and allowed her to love him. 

It was a good thing she’d suggested he buy her dinner first.

~Finis~

(To Be Continued in _'The Ambassador Said What?'_ Coming soon!)


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